What were they thinking?

Thus far, during my short time as a resident of the state of Colorado, my favorite place to 'get away' has become the Seaman Reservoir.

The Seaman is a huge reservoir located a few miles up the Pourdre River Canyon, and in my opinion, it's got the best of both the worlds: a little sage and high desert sand, and a whole lot of water.

This past week we went for a hike to the far side of the lake (my favorite place within my favorite place), and we attempted to go swimming. It's been unseasonably warm here in Fort Collins for the month of May, so at the time it seemed to be a brilliant idea. The reality is that we spent 20 minutes standing thigh deep in freezing cold water, calling each other 'chicken shit'.

Yes, we're all talk and no action, but at least our Swedish rears are a bit tanner as result of our unhealthy, competitive nature.

The French named the Canyon 'Cache le Poudre', after the gun powder that they stashed there, but those of us who haven't mastered our French drawl, pronounce it as "cash luh pew-der".

So when our friends asked what we had been up to all day, our reply was: "We went swimming in the See-man up the Pew-der...."

Really, what were the French thinking?

The U.S. Nationals are over and Chris is on his way home.

I haven't heard much in the way of specifics about the competition, other than some rain and a disgruntled retrieve crew.

Still waiting for the 'official results', but a I can safely report that Bradley Gunnuscio, a fellow Utahian took first place overall- makes me miss Utah...

I've got to get cleaning and hire a landscape crew to finish the patio that I was supposed to have completed for Chris's homecoming.

Below some photos linking to Marges Photo Bucket album of the competition.

Beautiful shots. (Thanks Marge)

What men really do on vacation

Since Chris has been gone to California, I've become pleasantly accustomed to having the house to myself, the bed to myself- basically having it my way all of the time.

Dunlap, the town in which the U.S. Nationals are being held, (where Chris is) sounds to be comparable to a pot hole- this is the best term that I can come up with. Basically, from what I understand, is that Dunlap is a very small town with no grocery and two restaurants, one being Super Taco. There is no cell service, nor is there internet connectivity. I've only heard from Chris if he's happened to have landed in an area that offers cell service. Basically, I'm trusting that he still has his 'In Case of Emergency' card in his pocket. (yes, I make him carry one, he liked that idea much better than the bracelet that reads: If I'm found please return me to.. )

Because of the lack in cell service- I am assuming, the 'Official Results' page of the 2009 Nationals site has remained blank. My curiosity has finally won the battle and I've broken my boycott of Face Book. (Too long to cover right now, I'll just say this about it: Facebookies- You only pretend to be my friend so your friend number is bigger- I never liked you anyways.) I figured that someone at the nationals had to be taking the time to drive to the next town just to blog about it-and yes, someone has.

This picture is from Andy's blog. (thanks Andy) So now I know for a fact that Chris is in Dunlap, and not in Vegas. It also seems, by the looks of the picture, that he is not having much fun at this particular moment in time.

It seems (from here in my living room) that the weather has been stellar. I know that a site record was broken the day before comp began, and that Chris flew 90 Kilometers....maybe on this same day that this picture was taken? That's him in the blue. Why the gloom? Must be missing...eighty?

In addition to pictures of World Class Assleates eating Tacos on the blog, there was also a screen shot showing the 'SPOT' which is a salellite beacon tool that can track a pilot in flight and send out one of three messages. 1) I'm fine, don't wait up. 2) I'm fine, wait up because I'll need a band aid. and 3) Oh boy- you're going to be real mad- or something along those sentiments.

The funny thing about the screen shot is not the SPOT tool itself, but instead what is open in the tab, which is : U-Tube-- Tesla -- Love Song. Evidently, when the ladies are away, Tesla will play.

Get your lighters out, you'll be needing them

So I've been a lacky at writing. Really, I think that I've lost my funny bone and I would hate to publish jaded sarcastic entries that only I find funny.

A number of people have commented that I haven't been writing- which I am surprised by- not that you would mention my lackyness, but the fact that you look forward to my entries. I'm feeling a little warm and funny. No, I haven't been drinking.

I suppose that like me, reading other peoples randomness might give you that needed smile, or more accurate to my case, get me through a few really dark days.

So here I am. I will write. I have written. Thank you for the warm fuzzy.

Code Rainbow

At 7:00 this morning, which yes, is way too early to be alive, I am woken to a knocking at my front door. I cover my head in pillows and ignore the noise.

More knocking, getting louder. Very serious sounding knocking. 7:00 a.m., hmm, not normal at all, maybe I should go see. Random thoughts: do they let the missionaries out this early? What about the witnesses? Confusion.

Louder knocking. I'm up. Pants, good idea.

A sneaky peek out the window, it's the police. Ohh Boy, did I pay that ticket? Do they put warrants out for that? Maybe I should brush my teeth. It would be embarrassing to be arrested with morning breath.

I open the door and stare. Clean and crispy, very tall and thick, walky-talky and a gun, ohh boy. He says "Good Morning. I'm Looking for a Sarah Galli"

ohh boy. "Thats me" I answer.

"Is there someone in Minneapolis that you haven't spoken to in a while that might be worried about you?" Cop asks.

"My Mom?" Why would I immediately say that? I didn't even have to think about it- faster than the funny bone response.

"Bingo." He says. Straight face. "She's very worried about you and would like for you to call her."

More random thoughts: Mom called the cops on me? I'm 31 years old right? Wouldn't it have been easier to just call me?

"May I ask a personal question?" Cop asks.

Yes, I shower at night. -still a random thought- inside my head.

Me "Yes.."

Cop "Is your Mother....a couple bubbles off..?"

Me "Like a couple Dozen."

He Smiles. oh a smile- thank God.

"Well, you should call her, she's very worried." Smiling cop.

"O.k." I say. "...did you by chance talk to her?"

"No, the dispatch did, they're calling it 'Code Rainbow'. Made me promise to stop by and check on you first thing so that she stops calling."

Code Rainbow...Code Crazy.

He hands me his card. Officer Brubaker. Good guy. He turns and walks away.

"Officer" I call. He turns to face me. "You do good work."

He smiles.

Will I see him around town? Will he remember me? Code Rainbow? It's too small a town....geeze, how far do I need to move to get away from my family?

Husband and Wife

One morning last week Chris woke up declared: "I need to go to California and fly in the Nationals ... on Saturday".

And I was all: "Wait.. not without me you aren't"...pause...longer pause....uncomfortable silence.

And more awkwardness. It took me a minute to realize the the only remedy to the situation at hand was to say nothing more and to walk away, which I did.

This is the first time in our 100 year relationship that I've been faced with Chris doing something really fun and exciting- without me. I can't say that my reaction surprised me all that much- I've always known that I have a bit of that Crazy Wife lingering in my blood, I'm reminded of this all too often by my brother who refers to it as 'The Crazy Blood'. And I can't deny that I do occasionally stomp my foot and speak from my diaphragm...o.k., yell, but it's never been a situation so bad that it couldn't be remedied with Wendy's fries and a frosty, but this time we were way past frosty status.

O.k., time for some soul searching. It took a while, but after a couple of days I came up with about a hundred reasons supporting Chris leaving for a week to have fun without me. You want examples? Hmm. 1) No snoring. 2) Finishing laying the strip stone patio without Chris telling my that my lines are crooked. 3) The freedom to read the trashiest of trashy vampire novel and not be made fun of- you get the idea.

Fast forward a couple of days. Chris: "Maybe I don't want to go to California after all."

Me: "Why don't you go to Utah and fly with your friends then?"

Chris:.... silence.

One hour later. Chris: "Why do you want me to leave town so badly?" (with a quiver in his lip)

I'm speechless. After all of my self therapy, you suddenly wonder why I'm being the coolest wife ever by supporting your need to blow a giant wad of cash just to sooth your need to sit around in the dirt and eat Vienna Sausages?

As tactfully as I could muster, I say: "So that you realize how much you miss me and that there is no fun without me. Plus, you'll be reminded of this over and over when your flying friends continually ask you why Sarah isn't here."

Chris: "They already are."

Yes, and that's all I needed to hear.

Fast forward a few more days. Chris is is Ca, The patio is almost finished, I'm on the last book of my vampire series and there is no snoring.

Exactly what I was thinking