Friday, February 28, 2025

There is only Zuhl

 For a variety of reasons—most of them having to do with traffic—we don’t go on excursions nearly as often as we used to when the kids were smaller.  If I’m going to schlep through an hour of traffic one way to get to the other side of town, the destination better be worth it.  Then there’s the cost to consider.  I’ve noticed as I’ve gotten older that the more something costs, the higher the bar for it being a good experience.   The Children’s Museum might be amazing but if I have to drive half an hour, fight for downtown parking, and then pay $30 apiece, I’d rather get some McDonald’s and go to the park with friends.

Sometimes, though, I will take a risk.  A friend recommended the Zuhl Museum in Las Cruces, which is about 45 minutes northwest of El Paso.  It’s a small geology museum on the New Mexico State University campus.  Its tagline is “Where rocks come alive!” which seems to try a little harder than absolutely necessary to convince us that rocks are fun. At any rate, last week I hit a point where we all needed to get out of the house so I opted for a last-minute field trip.

Totally worth it.

The museum isn't much bigger than my house, but it was awesome.  There were excellent crystals and minerals found in the surrounding mountains, and massive fossils including a variety of femurs, crinoids, and nautilus shells.  The petrified wood…well, I was raised in northeastern Arizona, and I’m kind of a petrified wood snob.  It just doesn’t generally impress me.  This museum’s collection did.  Polished table-size slabs of the stuff, entire stumps, palm trees, pinecones…it was amazing.

Teenager for scale.








My favorite part was the fossil room, complete with a mosasaur skeleton and a baby mammoth that was discovered north of Fairbanks, Alaska.  (The girls and I may have whooped a little loudly, to the displeasure of the older couple sharing the museum with us.)  There were also massive bug imprints, fish skeletons, dinosaur bones, and so much more.  We've found fragments of fossils out in the desert, which is pretty common considering that 80 million years ago Texas was underwater as part of the great Inland Sea, but it was still pretty awesome to see complete versions of the plants and shells we picked out of the limestone out at the shooting range.




Mosasaurs



A dimetrodon, one of my two favorite dinosaurs--and he's happy to see you!
(The other is an ankylosaurus, if you're curious, and yes, I know dimetrodons aren't *technically* dinosaurs.  My favorite ancient reptiles, if you're going to be like that.)







Crinoids like we find in the quarry.

The docent was great.  I love talking to the staff in museums, especially smaller ones (smaller museums, not docents--the size of the person is mostly immaterial).  They always have something interesting to share.  The guy on duty was a geology student himself specializing in…I forget, but something complicated, field-based, and geological.  He had discovered some of the items on display, and he shared one of his very favorite pieces with us—a 2.5 million year old fossilized pinecone.  We all got to hold it. It was awesome. I mean, yeah, rocks are definitionally old, but this still felt like holding a piece of the past that your normal garden rock just can’t compete with.  He answered the girls’ questions and just seemed happy to have someone to talk to. 


So if you ever find yourself in Las Cruces with an hour to kill, you could do worse than the Zuhl Museum.  Yes, there are other places you could look at rocks for free, but these ones are really nice rocks.  Like really nice.

Little gifts from the docent--dinosaur models.


Sunday, January 26, 2025

The 2025 To-Do List


January is a month for goals.  Goals you make, goals you break, goals you aspire to but know you'll never do, goals you realign to become more practical, goals you discreetly shuffle to one side and pretend you never made, and--sometimes--goals you manage to keep.  I'm not much of a goal-maker myself.  I like short-term lists of things that need to be done, and even then it's mostly because I enjoy crossing stuff off the list.  It makes me feel accomplished.  It also makes it easier to tackle the never-ending list of last-minute crises that were a significant part of my 30s and seem destined to be part of my 40s. 

I digress.

I've made a list of goals this year.  40, to be precise.  (In addition to crossing stuff off lists, I also enjoy symmetry and symbolism, however loose.)  These goals fall into 3 major categories: specific task or experience, skill development, and personal improvement.  Yes, yes, I admit--some of these are excuses to do things I already wanted or needed to do.  In my defense, 40 is a really big number.

In no particular order, here it goes.
  • Learn to shingle and reshingle the shed
  • Gravel the backyard
  • Blog 2x a month
  • Read 12 books (already chosen, that's another post)
  • Write 1 book
  • Paint 2x a month
  • Stop swearing
  • Learn to use a chainsaw
  • Learn violin
  • Whitewater rafting in Santa Fe, either solo or lady-friends trip
  • Run a 5k
  • Bench press 75 lbs
  • Get a pedicure and facial
  • Learn Spanish
  • Build a piece of furniture
  • Break my phone addiction and lessen non-educational screentime in general
  • Do a Savage Daughters photo shoot with my girls
  • Read the Book of Mormon all the way through (done this previously, but still a good thing)
  • Read scriptures every day
  • Pray every day
  • Lose 15 lbs
  • Sew a t-shirt quilt
  • Paint 12 model horses
  • Learn to fence
  • Refinish kitchen cabinets
  • Practice pistol and rifle marksmanship 1x a month
  • Complete a gunsmithing course
  • Repair the shed siding
  • Save $250 a month
  • Archery 1x a week
  • Build an outhouse on our Alaska swamp with Tom Nixon (if circumstances work out)
  • Go to the temple at least 2x
  • Go to an El Paso Rhinos Junior Hockey Game
  • Repaint kitchen to match rest of house
  • Recaulk tubs
  • Learn Irish stick fighting
  • Belly dance 2x a month
  • Get Leah's driver license
  • Take a tax preparer class
  • 24 dates with Rick
Whew.

So how am I doing? Not too bad.  To keep from overstretching myself (and consequently crashing and burning) I have focused on building habits this month, choosing consistency over quantity.  I got a gym membership and actually go 3 or more days a week.  Spanish has been a daily habit thanks to Duolingo and that wretched little owl.  Prayers and scripture study have been solid.  I haven't tackled any of the house projects yet, but I did manage to repair the control display and faulty button on my stove, so that's a win even if it isn't on the list.  I have eked out two blogs this month and plan on at least one more.  Watercolors and horses are proceeding apace.  I also made it to the temple. I'm also on track to finish my first reading book (even though it will probably take a day of binge-reading).

Seriously, lists.  They make it all easier.

Lego and burger date.  Check.

Wednesday, January 1, 2025

Almost 40 and I'm gonna kill it.

 This year I turn 40.  I'm not big on birthdays since, as an adult, I can generally do and buy what I want throughout the year.  However, this one is kind of a milestone.  I'm solidly middle aged.  I'm approximately half-way through my anticipated lifespan. Despite the grind and turmoil of this time of life, I'm still here.  It's worth celebrating.

So I'm going to.  I generated a list of 40 things I either want to do, learn, or experience over the next year.  A couple of them are cool, a couple are generic, a couple are really hard and--because I'm not completely round the twist yet--a couple of them are mind-numbingly easy and pleasant to accomplish.  I'm not going into the list in this post because one of my goals is to write more and I'm going to need the material.  I will say that this is going to be a year of challenge, transformation, and indulgence in ways I've mostly avoided before.  Worse, it's going to be mostly intentional.

An epic misadventure like this is going to need a soundtrack.  I've picked 40 songs to pump me up when I inevitably start considering throwing in the towel.  In mostly no particular order, here we go--40 and Killing It, the soundtrack for my next year.

Against the Tide—Sail North. https://youtu.be/dHu9dXRR8sU?feature=shared

Alaska—Little Hurt. https://youtu.be/n55A2-yI9gY?feature=shared

Believer—Imagine Dragons. https://youtu.be/7wtfhZwyrcc?feature=shared

Carry On Wayward Son—Kansas. https://youtu.be/2X_2IdybTV0?feature=shared

The Cave—Mumford and Sons.  https://youtu.be/IgDNCmGr-Q4?feature=shared

Come Alive—The Greatest Showman. https://youtu.be/BURBlSYPmBU?feature=shared

Come Thou Fount—David Crowder Band. https://youtu.be/2IYx6Z01Ll8?feature=shared

Could Have Been Me—The Struts. https://youtu.be/rfHGqvbSjkA?feature=shared

Feeling Good—Michael Bublé. https://youtu.be/Edwsf-8F3sI?feature=shared

Fight Song—Rachel Platten. https://youtu.be/XbxNtPiCBK8?feature=shared

Firework—Katy Perry. https://youtu.be/QGJuMBdaqIw?feature=shared

Go the Distance—Peyton Parrish. https://youtu.be/J5U1EoZlw30?feature=shared

He’s a Pirate—Klaus Badelt. https://youtu.be/BuYf0taXoNw?feature=shared

Hit Me With Your Best Shot—Pat Benatar. https://youtu.be/JRD80XRMT7s?feature=shared

I Hope You Dance—Lee Ann Womack. https://youtu.be/F44nrK0MxEQ?feature=shared

I’d Rather Be Me—Barrett Wilbert Weed (Mean Girls). https://youtu.be/u075TmA_6TU?feature=shared

If We Hold On Together—Diana Ross. https://youtu.be/KHlvfGKfSNk?feature=shared

If You’re Going Through Hell—Rodney Atkins. https://youtu.be/l50L4GYhpLc?feature=shared

I’m Still Here—John Rzeznik. https://youtu.be/MUZwblurraA?feature=shared

Lean on Me—Bill Withers. https://youtu.be/fOZ-MySzAac?feature=shared

Let it Be—The Beatles. https://youtu.be/CGj85pVzRJs?feature=shared

Made You Look—Meghan Trainor. https://youtu.be/8JZPdp8W2Jg?feature=shared

Memories—Maroon 5. https://youtu.be/SlPhMPnQ58k?feature=shared

The Middle—Jimmy Eat World. https://youtu.be/FV-HPOHu8mY?feature=shared

The Parting Glass—Waking Ned Devine. https://youtu.be/25fHIKByC9Q?feature=shared

Promentory—Trevor Jones. https://youtu.be/u3YFAOnuZCo?feature=shared

The Rider—Paris Paloma. https://youtu.be/oemkWt36hvk?feature=shared

The River—Garth Brooks. https://youtu.be/CGNq60UMsdI?feature=shared

Roll Away Your Stone—Mumford and Sons. https://youtu.be/b0Puvnp5kTw?feature=shared

Savage Daughter—Ekaterina Shelehova. https://youtu.be/tegev08KyHY?feature=shared

Seasons of Love—Rent. https://youtu.be/UvyHuse6buY?feature=shared

Shut Up and Dance—Walk the Moon. https://youtu.be/6JCLY0Rlx6Q?feature=shared

Something Wild—Lindsey Stirling and Andrew McHahon. https://youtu.be/DkgNzYC5e08?feature=shared

Son of Man—Peyton Parrish. https://youtu.be/8Ip8un6avfY?feature=shared

Try Everything—Shakira. https://youtu.be/JuGfFpKwiug?feature=shared

Unsinkable—Sail North. https://youtu.be/1mYzJVwUNJs?feature=shared

Valhalla Calling—Peyton Parrish. https://youtu.be/tG7fk_DUz5g?feature=shared

Wake Me Up—Avicii. https://youtu.be/5y_KJAg8bHI?feature=shared

You Learn—Alanis Morrissette. https://youtu.be/GFW-WfuX2Dk?feature=shared

You Raise Me Up—Josh Groban. https://youtu.be/yZv0eZ-KS3I?feature=shared


Cheers to the new year and the countless new opportunities.  Love you all!

Tuesday, December 3, 2024

Above all, it was wet.


    When it came time to plan our family trip to Alaska this summer, my anxiety got the best of me.  Normally we go back to Fairbanks—we visit our favorite haunts, stop by the swamp, and spend time with some of our favorite people.  This year, for a variety of reasons (some adventurous and some anxiety-riddled), I booked us tickets for Juneau.   Juneau is the capital of Alaska, a cozy town of approximately 32,000 stretched along an inlet of the Inside Passage.  You can’t drive to it, so the only way to get there is by plane or ship.  The prospect of seeing something new was intriguing, so we took it. (Naturally, literally as soon as I finished purchasing tickets, several people from Fairbanks reached out to find out if we were coming up this summer and I kicked myself for being anxious and self-conscious.  However, I also hate paying fees to switch flights, so we stuck with Juneau.  Next year, Fairbanks, and we freaking love you all.)


    
Juneau is a big little town.
  It’s big enough to have a Costco.  It’s small enough that Costco doesn’t serve pizza.  It’s a major stop for the cruise lines, but other than a couple blocks of tourist shops and a bizarre number of high-end jewelry stores, it’s not really cosmopolitan.  You can walk across all of downtown in about two hours, including stopping by the governor’s mansion and the capitol building.  There’s a couple of museums, a branch of the state university, and all the hiking you could ever want.  There are eagles everywhere.  Courtesy of the surrounding boreal rainforest, it is very, very, very green.  Above all, it is wet.



    We landed at the tiny airport just after midnight and drove to our BnB.  Now, Alaskan housing can be…eclectic…even at the best of times: trapezoidal bathrooms with washers and dryers across from the corner toilet, a bedroom turned into an indoor jacuzzi, an entire room dedicated to the maze of hardware and plumbing to keep it running.  Our home for the next week was no exception.  The “two-bedroom, 1 bath” did in truth sleep 8, even if it had clearly started life as some garage/guest house hybrid and one of the bedrooms was a wall with a curtain thrown up in one corner of the living room.  The solid metal doors with a push-bar handle took me straight back to high school. The kids’ favorite part was the possibly haunted bathroom with the attic-access ladder that came down right by the toilet.  One child may have threatened to sleep in the car instead.  It was dry, heated, and I didn’t have to go outside to pee, so all in all it was a win.











The house next to our BnB had a gargoyle on the roof...

...and continued the odd Alaskan love of mannequins.

Yes, that is our current president elect.

    We did a lot of walking.  Up and down the streets, past the old Russian Orthodox Church and the capitol building, the boardwalk with its sculptures and beaches and totem poles.  It was the end of the salmon run so there were more dead fish (and bear tracks) than usual, but it didn’t smell as bad as one might expect.




A doll museum in a probably abandoned and definitely haunted building--the world's most unconvincing tourist attraction.

Checking out knives on the wharf.

A statue of Patsy Ann, a bull terrier who used to greet ships as they came into Juneau.



The statue at the end of the boardwalk.

Bear tracks on the beach.



St. Nicholas Russian Orthodox Church.


Still no.

    It’s a personal goal of mine to drive every highway in Alaska (and it’s not hard, there’s less than 10 of them in all), so we also stuffed the kids into the rental car and drove the 80 mile round trip of this leg of the Glacier Highway.  It took us to some beautiful views, including the Shrine of St. Therese and the Jensen-Olson Arboretum. It also ended about two miles before the map said it should, with a gate across the road.  I was thwarted. 

There were lots of deer.  No moose, apparently.

Fireweed just about bloomed out.

The Gate.


    The Shrine itself is a lovely old stone church set on its own small island, accessible by walkway.  There were ravens and kittiwakes (gulls) all over the place, and we finally got an up-close audience with some marmots.  It was a peaceful and very contemplative, with the stations of the cross ringing the church.  We also found a very helpful local guide who was ferrying some tourists around but was happy to share tips.  Seriously, I can’t stress this enough—show interest and appreciation to an Alaskan, and they will give you the best inside info.  It always pays off.






    The arboretum was a favorite with my resident botany-fan, and my farmer also appreciated the ancient apple tree that was thriving.  The rest of the crew enjoyed clambering over the rocky shore and the tide-pools.









    There were several small state recreation areas along the highway that were pretty cool, including one along the banks of the Eagle River.  There were eagles everywhere, flanked by velociravens and screaming gulls that were all there for the salmon sluggishly making their way upstream.  The fish were so slow it would have been easy enough to just pick them out of the river, no pole necessary.  Judging by the skeletons piled across the delta, the birds had had good eating for weeks.









    We finished off our road-trip with a quick tour of Douglas Island, just over the bridge from Juneau.  The kids enjoyed playing on the beach, and the drive rewarded us with a porcupine and a flock of very busy ducks.  We also ran into a corgi puppy named Marshmallow.




    An entire day was devoted to Mendenhall Glacier and Nugget Falls, and both were impressive.  We took a hike above the falls, about five miles round trip, that gave us a great taste of the Tongass National Forest.  The Tongass is the largest national forest in the U.S., coming in at nearly 17 million acres and dates back to 1907 when it was initially established as a national park by President Theodore Roosevelt.  The hike was pretty vertical at times, but worth it.  The girls ate late-season berries off the side of the trail and squeeed over mushrooms and moss.  The only thing that dampened their spirits was…well, the fact that they were damp.





Take them to a massive waterfall and they get distracted by flecks of iron pyrite.









    As I mentioned before, Juneau is wet.  It rains an average of 200 days a year, with a yearly average of 67 inches of rain (just rain, the snow is its own thing).  I am unsurprised by these statistics because over the week that we were there, we saw about 2 ½ hours of sun total.  Two of the girls loved it, but by day three Rick and I agreed that while it was a gorgeous place to visit, we were never going to voluntarily live there.  Ever.  I can take the long dark of the interior, but the interminable overcast of the southeast?  It disturbs my calm.  Fortunately, I had planned for the rain and we all had layers and raincoats to get us through.


 

Just a little dance to pep for the day.

    I had also been a little concerned about the cold.  Juneau is a mild climate without a lot of extremes, but “mild” up north is a lot closer to “frigid” by El Paso standards.  After almost four years in the desert, I wasn’t sure how my kids would handle highs in the 50s.  They acclimated quickly; if it hadn’t been for the rain, they’d have been in short sleeves or a sweater at most the entire trip.  It gave me some reassurance for our future move.

    Juneau has a rich history (pun intended) and was one of the key players in the Alaskan Gold Rush in the late 1800s.  Of course we hit a mine tour.  Aeryn wasn’t a fan as she’s a little bit of a claustrophobe and doesn’t love the idea of tens of millions of tons of rock overhead, but we all made it through and even learned something.  There might have been a ghost at the back of the mine, but I'm 90% sure he didn't come home with us so that's a win. 






This used to be the inside of the ore processing plant.

    The last day of our trip we hit a museum and took the tram up Mount Robertson.  Now, theoretically, this should be an amazing view (all the more amazing because the 10-minute tram saves you several hours of hiking) but the clouds had other ideas.  We still took a hike through the rain, which by now we were more used to.  We saw some deer and got some close-up experience with Devil’s Club, which is kind of like a thistle you’d find in Hell, or Alaska’s version of cholla.  Luckily everyone kept on the trail, which is good because falling down a mountain of Devil’s Club would have been memorable in the most terrible way.  As it was, we only had one kid who brushed it and had to have some prickles scraped out of her leg.



Not loving the tram shaking in the wind.

Unimpressed by the rain.





Just look at that view.




Best advertising in Juneau.
 
   The food was pretty good.  Breakfast is always bigger.  We stopped by a tourist trap, the Red Dog Saloon, that had the most delightful Old West/hoarder esthetic including ankle-deep sawdust on the floor, walls covered with various heads, mining implements, and bear traps, with live music and Wyatt Earp’s pistol in pride of place over the bar.  It was your standard burger joint/steakhouse fare, but the dessert (bread pudding with cinnamon apples, caramel, and whipped cream) was *chef’s kiss*.  At another local place, The Hangar on the Wharf, Rick and I had a great meal with the older girls (the others just wanted Ramen so they stayed home).  I ripped apart a Dungeness crab at T.K. Maguire’s that was actually pretty delicious for such an unassuming restaurant.  The best meal we had, however, was Filipino BBQ that we got from a food cart off the docks in the middle of Juneau.  It was so freaking good that we went back twice.



Twinning with the kelp sauce.









    Oh!  I almost forgot the hatchery!  McCauley Hatchery raises salmon every year to help replenish the stocks.  There is a small visitor’s center with touch-pools and a column aquarium of local sea life, a twenty-minute video about the process of raising and releasing salmon, and tanks with the year’s current baby fish.  The fish ladder was cool, and it was interesting to see the fish that come back to their “spawning grounds” at the hatchery.  The best part, though, were the seals that had set up shop in the dock right below the fish ladder.  I don’t think it was coincidence or just their seal-ness that made them so round.  Even better, if possible, were the fishermen lining the rocks and docks just past the “No Fishing” boundary. 












    And that was Juneau. I can’t imagine living there and constantly fighting the pervasive wet or the claustrophobia of being geographically trapped, but it was nice to experience the edge of the wilderness again.  There just isn’t anywhere else like Alaska.


    Even when it's a little soggy.

Back to the desert.

Everyone was ready to be in their own beds.

Ah, thanks for welcoming me back, little buddy.

P.S.