Bloggy Friends, Polygamy and Prisons

People who blog know you can develop sincere relationships with other bloggers -- bloggers you've never met in the flesh.  Those who read blogs but don't blog themselves can have a difficult time seeing this as possible and not weird.  I understand.

Bloggy Friends
A couple of my friends who have known me for years have expressed a bit of jealousy over my bloggy relationships.  One friend called and said, "Do you even KNOW this person?  Have you talked to her?  She totally acts like she knows you.  Don't you think that's weird?  You know I was THERE all those times you threw-up.  I held your hair.  I've experienced your car-sickness.  She doesn't know these things..."

Another friend called and said, "Who's Betty [fictitious bloggy friend name]?  She acts like she knows you.  How do you meet these people?  I'm about ready to tell Betty [fictitious bloggy friend name] to BACK. OFF!"

All I'm going to say is, a Brownie Group I proudly joined in Winchester, Indiana, taught me to sing, "Make new friends, but keep the old.  One is silver and the other gold."

Polygamy
This has always fascinated me.  When I was in college I met a girl who's parents were in a polygamous relationship.  It was one man and three wives and they were all about the same age.  Not a 56-year old pedophile with a 15-year old child.  I only knew this girl because I advertised on our dorm bulletin board that I was looking for students who wanted to go to Phoenix for the weekend.  We were attending Northern Arizona University in Flagstaff, Arizona, and the gas money I collected from the riders paid for my trip home.

I always wanted this girl to be in the car.  I saved the front seat for her so I could ask questions.  She was very nice and answered them all.  I'm a detail gal, so I just went for it.  Still fascinates me.

Prisons
I would love to tour a prison... wearing an invisible cloak.  That's the problem.  I think I'd be scared if all the perps were staring at me, or cussing at me, or naked.  What do they talk about?

I read Tom Wolfe's, A Man in Full several years ago and a significant portion of the plot takes place in a prison.  This simultaneously satisfied and stimulated my curiosity.  Some of the prison scenes are very graphic.  I know Tom Wolfe does his research, so it might be the closest thing to a tour that I'll ever experience.

Maybe I could get one of those realistic fatsuits.  A realistic, MAN fatsuit.  I bet that would be like an invisible cloak in a prison...

Jackpot
When we first moved to Utah six years ago, Oldest Boy was five and Middle Boy was three.  The first year living here, I used to take the boys for drives to kill time and coax a nap.

I was intrigued to learn we live near a prison.  Not so near that I'm worried or can see it from my neighborhood, but within 15 miles. 

Not far from the prison is a large, red-brick, polygamy house on several acres.  There's a pretty, stone schoolhouse, horses, a large garden, and what appear to be happy, normally clothed women and children milling around [what I've seen with my binoculars].  If I was going to marry a polygamist, I think this might be the one.

On my afternoon drives, I usually made a pass or two by the prison and the polygamy house.  I know I've gotten as close to each structure and surrounding property as possible.  From every angle.  If I saw prisoners or one of the Mrs. Nelson's [fictitious last name], my day was made.

Chris would ask me about my day when he arrived home from work, "So Geraldo, did you make any progress on your prison and polygamy investigations?"  Smart-ass.

When he asked about his day, Oldest Boy often said, "We drove to the place where the people who do bad things live.  Then we went where all those women and children live... again."

So what have we learned?  That the spirit of Gladys Kravitz lives on... a little bit in all of us.

This is a very important day. Rock the vote.

November 4, 2008
On this day Chris and I both exercised our right and "rocked the vote" with the young people.  We've earned the cool sticker.

November 4, 1989
On this day nineteen years ago, I cast my ballot for a young man who had earned my confidence, trust, respect and love. 

 

I became the wife of Mr. Christopher Alan Ross.

Happy Anniversary, Chris. We'll rock our own little vote later...promise.

The Justice League

Halloween is not one of my favorite holidays.  For many reasons.  I don't like how creepy it's gotten over the years.  I've seen toddlers wearing the Scream mask, and others with graphically drawn wounds on their faces.  What happened to clowns and old, fat farmers?  Gypsies, and little boys dressed like their dad, using their mother's eyebrow pencil to draw a mustache on their face?

It's also a problem at our house because of Oldest Boy's diabetes.  A little candy once in a while is fine, but to gluttonously "go for it" isn't good for him - any child really.  Middle Boy's allergic to wheat and dairy, so again,  presents a problem.  Now that they're older, 11 and 9, they understand the limitations of their individual bodies.  It was much more difficult a few years ago.

Without further ado...

I knew Toddler Child was going to be Batman, so I excitedly bought Mary (the dog) her Wonder Woman costume.  I begged Chris to be Robin... he wouldn't do it.  Middle Boy had a Superman costume from last year and I picked up The Flash for Oldest Boy on sale.

I confess that Oldest Boy and Middle Boy only wore these for the photos.  They said they'd be mortified to be seen in the neighborhood actually trick-or-treating in them.  I think they had fun once they were in them though...

 

After pictures, the two older boys changed into their real costumes and got on with the more important business of trick-or-treating.  [For Toddler Child, it was "twinkle-tweeting".]  Oldest Boy was a Jedi and Middle Boy was a CLONE trooper, not a stormtrooper.  They both made their costumes (except the helmet).

 

Once the kids were off, Mary had her own important business - guarding the Ross Cave and running upstairs to stare at the bird periodically.  You never know when a parakeet might attack.

 

We feel sooooo much safer with Wonder Mary on watch.  Her costume commands the respect she's always deserved and the Lasso of Truth concerns us all...