COME ON!

This is delighting me like little else ever has. Seriously. The best part is around the 22 second mark, when you can see the puppy's tail wagging.


The more you watch it, the better it gets... Not unlike THIS! (Yes, I KNOW it's a prairie dig, but "Dramatic Prairie Dog?" Please. Where's the rhythm?)


Now, as adorable as the puppy in the first video is, I just can't ever imagine doing something like that to Arnold or Red. They don't eat people food (except when Brad feeds them), and even if they did, they'd never stoop to such sophomoric forms of entertainment.

Arnie prefers extreme sporting.

(Please note: This is Saint, not Arnie. Also note the excellent form of Saint's Downward Dog; my yoga teachers would be impressed.)

Um - and this is just a suggestion - if you're ever looking for something to do, just type "Surfing Golden Retriever" into Google. Again, just a thought. But seriously, though, not a bad way to kill 5 minutes while you wait for files to upload.

Tatopani

I was lonely and broken-hearted and contemplating quitting when I walked into the guesthouse recommended by the Lonely Planet guide. I was in Tatopani, Nepal, along the Annapurna Circuit, and I was tired of being alone.

The whole point of my trip was to use solo travel as a way to overcome fear, though, so any interaction with Americans, any connection that felt easy and comfortable and safe left me feeling wildly guilty. Like I wasn’t doing it right. Like I was cheating.

Then I met Mike.

He was tall and lean and his eyes crinkled when he smiled. He had sun-streaked hair and a beard and he reminded me of an old friend at home, someone I had a crush on growing up and who’d remained in my life through college. I guess this association, this familiarity, is what made it ok for me to walk over to him and sit down. To start talking. To let my guard down.

The other travelers were posturing and competitive. They were talking loudly about meditation retreats and dysentery and getting stoned. I wanted no part of it, and from the looks of this friendly person beside me, he didn’t either.

We talked quietly for a long time. I learned that he was from San Diego, had a golden retriever and was in grad school. Those are the only details I remember, but I know we sat there for hours, talking long after the others went to bed, talking until we saw the backlit silhouettes of the mountains outside the windows.

I slept for a few hours, and when I walked back into the main room of the guest house, I saw that he was gone. There was no note or message. I didn’t know where he was going next, and even then, I knew that it didn’t matter.

I didn’t need to know. An email address, even a last name, would have been pointless. We didn’t need each other; we weren’t friends. And now, years later, I have no idea how to contact him, nor do I want to. His life doesn’t concern me anymore. I wish him the best, but where he is or what he’s doing doesn’t matter.

What matters, what I remember from that one conversation on one night in the middle of a trek in Nepal, is that it is possible to make a safe connection with a stranger. That they’re out there, the good ones. That I don’t always have to protect myself. That sometimes, people are beautiful.

Skiing with Polly and Mira

And Red and Arnie and Brooklyn and Greta.

I love it when the dogs outnumber the people.

I drove to Summit Park today to tour around with Polly and her entirely precious little MiraGirl. Fortunately, when I arrived, Polly allowed me ample time to hold the baby, cuddle the baby, talk to the baby and watch the baby scoot about on her little quilt on the floor, all the while marvelling at how this beautiful child is really very special. I mean, considering that Handsome Brooklyn (the friendly lab pictured here with his elegant sister Greta)

frequently wandered past Mira and licked her aacross the face - without Mira minding a bit - I think she's obviously a future Dog Whisperer at the very least.

We skinned from the house, which was superb. Up one peak, down again, over to another and down that, all without starting a car.

The boys had a great day, too. (As I write this, they're sound asleep by the fire. In fact, only Brad is nearer to the fire than they are.) Nearly five hours moving through deep snow, and neither of them slowed down at all. I'm very proud. Arnie wsa obviously very tired at the end, though, because he let his guard down and actually made eye contact for, like, the first time ever.

Well, he makes eye contact with me all the time, but seldom with anyone else, and never with the camera. He's like an indigenous villager who thinks that cameras steal souls. (Is that unPC? You know, to suggest that indigenous villagers don't know what cameras are? I mean, only say that because it's sort of true in my experience.....but if you're offended, I apologize. But, well, I guess, get used to it, because this is my blog. How bitchy!)

At the top of one peak, Polly decided that Mira should wear her goggles for the big descent:

What a Park City grom - sheepskin hat, down outfit, paparazzi shades. She's ready for Sundance.

Tired of waiting for me to make photo, the dogs took charge of the group and discussed the path of descent.


Red's impatience with me continued.

Even Arnie was getting bored. Can you see him sighing in this picture? He was.


I can see their point. It was getting late and weather was moving in. The boys needed treats, a couch and woodstove. I felt the same.

But I found time for one more Arnie portrait. I call this one Arnie Make Havoc. Get it?


Thanks for a great day, Polly!

I’ve Been Rather Busy

I started my new job last week, hence, no blogging.

Sorry.

Here’s what I love my new job as a copywriter for a big time ad agency:

Arnie gets to come to work with me.

Super nice co-workers.

A Powerbook G4. I know, I’m so shallow.

Being so close to the Aves, where I walk Arnie each day at lunch.

Peet’s Coffee, always on tap. (I know – historically I’ve dismissed Peet’s as poseur joe, AND IT IS, but it sure beats Folger’s crystals.)

My responsibilities, which include all sorts of things I’ve never done before. It’s nice to be learning new things every single day.

Interacting with the company’s other offices, in LA, Phoenix and DC.

Cucina, my new favorite lunch spot.

Arnie warming my feet as I type this.

The old building that houses our offices – kind of like the early days at Backbone.

Studio work.

Studying copy and language choices.

The organic Dancing Deer baked goods in the kitchen right now.

The woodsy out the floor-to-ceiling windows of my office.




I’m so lucky. I’m really grateful for this opportunity. It’s amazing how life’s scariest moments can really turn into gifts.

That for which I am thankful.

Laughter. People who make me laugh. People who laugh with me. Out loud and till my face hurts.

Family. Brad. Mom, Dad and John. The Barlages. My two boys (yes, they're dogs).

Friends. When they tell me "everything's gonna be ok," I believe them.

Places that inspire me. Knowing where they are and returning to them again and again.

Frost on the ground this morning. It's about goddamned time.

Tiger balm. I guess I'm getting old.

The woodstove all glowy and warm. Thanks to Brad.

Time to rest, to read, to knit, to relax. Not everyone gets that time. I'm lucky.

Hanging in there.

Just like this guy.

If only I had one of those posters...the kind my 4th grade teacher hung all over her classroom, the kind that scream, "I'M A LONELY SPINSTER!"

But I'm not a lonely spinster, of course. I'm so blessed with a wonderful honey and supportive friends. Thanks to you all for your amazing and uplifting posts.

An update: I was just offered a cool position at a cool company. I'll share more as soon as it's all formalized, but suffice it to say that I was only unemployed for approximately 4 hours. That makes me happy.

Brothers. Together Again.

Today when Brad and Red pulled into the driveway, Arnie was so excited to see his brother that he jumped up on the van and kissed Red right on the snoot. Red kissed Arnie right back and when he jumped out of the van, they wiggled and wagged and sniffed and smiled.

I almost started crying - that's how cute it was.

They missed each other. I can't believe it.

Later, we hiked up Grandeur and I stopped to take a few photos.

Happy boys.


Still happy.


More happy.


I have about 15 more images of the same, but my respect for your time prevents me from posting them. I know you're very busy people. I'm looking out for you.

Golden Retrievers for Everyone.

This is the greatest story ever:
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20071102/ap_on_fe_st/odd_animal_rescues

This little guy, Toby, knows the Heimlich. See how naturally smart and aware Golden Retrievers are? That's why I never bothered to train Arnie; I knew he just SENSED how to behave.

Seriously, this story made my day.

In case you can't read the story (are you kidding me? You MUST READ THE STORY!), here are a few photos of Toby with his mom, whose life he saved by jumping on her chest while she was choking.

The lesson here, of course, is Always Encourage Your Dog to Jump on People.

This makes me surprisingly happy.

This high priest has won many million big ones.

I think it's nice!

In this video, he talks about his plans to establish a school "like Hogwarts" where kids can learn about Shamanism, Wicca and other religions as well as "mundane realm" things like "managing finances."

It's true, you know. When you can transfigure and fly and confer with deities, I'm sure preparing your tax return and balancing your checkbook seem SUPER boring. (Get it? "super?" I know - it was a little forced.)

I mean, don't they have spells for those sorts of things? If so, I want in.

Seriously. All kidding aside. I am really happy for this guy. The video even made me tear up a little. I mean, I know we're all so cool that we think anything other than a healthy dose of atheism - agnostism for the liberals among us - is total bunk.

But really. Here's this caftan-wearing guy who's living his beliefs to the fullest, going so far as to provide another generation with opportunities that he lacked - namely, the chance to worship/chant/study/draw sparkly fairies in a place with like-minded, tolerant people. Free of religous persecution, or at the very least, freedom from being called "fags" by their jock class mates.

Go ahead, naysayers. Mock me. Mock him. But I'm standing by my belief: this guy is cool.

It's interesting, though, because while I have all the patience in the world for a school of witchery, I'd be pissed if the Catholocs tried the same.

Wait, what? There already ARE schools of full of Catholics? And they're conspiring against the rest of us? But, nobody's caling THEM satan worshippers and preventing them from gathering together in a privately-funded facility....OH, right...the CONSERVATIVE thing. I forgot.

GRW - Arnie is not tote-able.

Brad loves to tote Arnie. You know, just walk around with an Arnie draped about his shoulders like a cape. It's REALLY normal behavior. Most people walk around with dogs (who weigh HALF AS MUCH as they do) around their necks.

Arnie's so mellow, though, that he never really minds, especially when he's really stoned, as he is below:


Arnie isn't as into it when Brad tries to get him all fired up. Arnie doesn't do "fired up," which is unfortunate, because Brad doesn't do mellow. Yet, like Bert and Ernie, they get along famously. As you can see.


Oh, and the wetness on Arnie's head, that's making his fur all cowlicky? That's where Brad was biting him.

This Was Fun.

Sunday, the 21st of October. The first day of the season. We put in 2560 feet at Alta. There were 200 cars in the parking lot by the time we left (noon), and the lifts weren't even running. There were more people skinning and hiking and snowshoeing than I'd ever seen in one place, and everyone was happy and psyched and enjoying the warmish temps and 24 inches of snow.

Brad and I went out with Ed, who took the photos below; we met Mitchell, John and Jaima. Fun day. Can't wait for another, but it looks like all those nice storm cycles have moved on for the time being. That's ok, too; it's still nice to run on the fallen leaves.

Skinning felt great on Sunday, though my skiing was a little rusty. I just love Alta, the part of Little Cottonwood where the road ends and the mountains begin.

Here's Ed, mugging for the camera and the folks on the Eastern seaboard:


Brad and me on top of lap one:


My favorite photo from the day, ripping skins for the first turns of the season:


Again, all photos courtesy of Ed Maginn.

Up Up up.

It's definitely getting colder, growing dark earlier and there's snow on the peaks. I'm so happy. As you all know by now, I'm not much of a warm-weather person. Really, though, more than the weather, I'm just excited about skiing. We're very lucky, in Salt Lake, to have almost immediate access to the backcountry, and last night, Ed and I were talking about the dozens of absolutely wonderful ski partners in this town. Here's an image from a day, two years ago, when Brad, Ed, Bill B., Anna R., Matt T., Dylan F. and I skied Bonkers, one of my favorites.


Dylan must have taken that picture, because he was ahead of us most of the day...it could have been Bill, though...so the credit goes to one of them. I should be careful to give Bill the credit he deserves, because as you can see, he's not one to tangle with:


I remember the day getting off to a rocky start. I forgot my boots and didn't realize it till I was at the trailhead, so I was 30 minutes behind the group (see what I mean about easy access, though? I drove home, got my boots and was on the trail skinning in just half an hour). Brad came with me, so I felt bad about cutting into his ski time (and thus became Katie the Mean, or rather, Katie the Guilt-Ridden). It was so beautiful, though, such good snow and such great people, that my standard, pre-skiing nerves ("will I be able to keep up?" "will I be good enough?" "will everyone be laughing at me behind my back and wondering why Brad married me?") (Ahem, I know what you're thinking, and for the record, I'm already on medication) faded away in 30 minutes. Which is like, a record for me.


Either a Brad or Bill photo, Katie the Happy.

Grab Life by the Balls

It's rainy and cold and absolutely delightful here today, and after goregous run with the dogs along the mid-mountain trail this morning, reading the majority of Harry Potter while watching PSU-UM this afternoon and a brief (maybe too brief?) Crossfit workout, the boys and I are watching Dodgeball. Ben Stiller, Vince Vaughn, Jason Bateman, the guy who played Milton in Office Space...oh my god it's funny.

Some of my favorite lines: "I read it. In a book." and "It's gotta be the hair, it's beautful - feathered and lethal. You just don't see it like that nowadays."

Even Red is enjoying it.

Last night I met up with Amber, mother of this girl:



We went to Kayo to see Catherine's show. WOW! My friend, the artist, presented beautiful work, and the buzz around her prints was audible. "How did she do that?" "I wonder if she's a full-time artist." And on and on. It was awesome. I'm so psyched for her.

After the gallery, Amber and I went to the Oasis cafe, which was hosting Dine a Round. I had a Newcastle for the first time in years - yum - and we ate crabcakes and hummus and salmon and asparagus and pot au creme....I must learn to make this pot au creme. Maybe I'll share the recipe on Baked on Sunday (don't forget! It's tomorrow!).

Nice weekend so far. I'm loving the cool weather. I ran in a long sleeve today, and my hands were sort of numb when I finished. Awesome. The boys were panting less than usual, and now they're curled into furry circles beside me, snoozing, snuggling, happy.

I'm looking forward to climbing and another mountain run tomorrow.

Homesick

I ran in Mill Creek tonight, 9 or so miles along the Pipeline Trail, all lined with fallen leaves. The valley was clear; the scrub oak (I think) already reddening. It was a perfect run. Arnie a few paces in front of me, until we met a "very scary" and frail woman who looked to be older than dirt and seemed about as threatening as a ground squirrel.

(For what it's worth, the Iranians take the threat of squirrels very seriously.)


After that, Arnold stayed on my heels.

I got home and drank some chocolate milk, my new favorite recovery drink, and went grocery shopping. Kind of homesick for a Pennsylvania Autumn, I decided to bake cheese straws and make chicken soup. The house is warm, the air outside growing cooler and Brad just called, on his way home with a van-load of firewood. We'll unload the van tonight, stacking the wood into very specific piles (if you know Brad, this is no surprise) and imagining winter, fires in the stove, skiing, sleeping under the quilt, the dogs curled near.

WE ARE....

...Penn State.

This weekend I returned to my alma matter for my parents' world-famous tailgate party and the Penn State-Notre Dame game. (Psu 31, ND 10)

Lots of old friends at the tailgate and in State College. The town looked welcoming and familiar despite new stores, new campus buildings and having spilled into the adjacent fields and open space. I still love it there, and as I write today I'm having to remind myself why I left State College. I wanted to be out West; I wanted to rock climb at places other than working quarries. But I also needed to know what else was out there, what my choices were. I needed to see everything before I settled down; I couldn't be still until I knew I wasn't missing anything.

Yesterday, I got to see the places and things that were my everyday in the Penn State years. I miss it there, but I'm not sure if I miss ME there or if I miss the place itself.

More on this later.

For now, proof that Brad was THRILLED by the football game:

'Tis the Season

It's desert climbing season again. This past weekend we pilgramaged to Indian Creek with Arnie, Red and Moxie (Guest Retriever - we love her) to meet Mike and Lisa Ray and their dog, Tanner. Three days of chasing shade and climbing pitch after pitch of sandstone....I loved it, which kind of surprised me; normally Indian Creek is ok, but not awesome. This time, it was absolutely rad. I think I've turned the corner and finally found the rhythm, the fun, the grace of crack climbing.

Not that I was particularly graceful this weekend. My hands are swollen and cut up, my knees and forearms are bruised. Ok, so my form is still lacking; at least I'm having fun.

Photographic evidence of the fun.

I find this delightful.

Really. What WOULD a unicorn do? I think he'd "Magestically Gallop."

Pillow

Arnie has been very cuddly lately, very near. A few weeks ago, camping in the van at Maple, we took a nap while Brad make dinner. Perfection.

Too much to write about, so this is my cop-out.

1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
No. Katherine Anne Cavicchio marks the start of a dynasty.

2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?
Wow...it’s been awhile for real sobs, though yesterday I got a bit teary-eyed when my friend Robin told me that she has a tape of Mugs’ voice. The thought of hearing the voice of your life-long love, long after he died....Completely crushing.

3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?
With the proper pen or pencil (the lead must be 0.7, not 0.5).

4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT?
Prosciutto

5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS?
Even better - I have two dogs. Arnie (aka Arnold, the Bear, Little, Sweet Pea) is a 3 year old Golden Retriever and Red (aka Red Dawg, Heeler, Dingo, Red Puppy) is a 4 year old Red Heeler.

6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?
Hard to say; I tend to be scared of people who are too much like me.

7. DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT?
No. Never. That was sarcasm.

8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS?
Yes, but I always wanted them to be taken out because I really wanted to eat all the ice cream. Just like George Costanza.

9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP?
Nope.

10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL?
Cracklin’ Oat Bran, but I never eat it on account of its copious sugar, fat, bleached flour and cost. I also love me some oatmeal.

11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?
Yes. If I don’t untie them when I’m taking them off, I’ll just have to untie them later, when I'm putting them back on. Why wait?

12. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG?
No. I KNOW I am strong.

13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM?
Anything that starts with vanilla and adds some form of chocolate or peanut butter.

14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?
Men: their smile.
Women: how skinny they are.

15. RED OR PINK?
Pink.

16. WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF?
How my completely distorted self-image affects my mood.

17. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST?
Grama and Pap Cavicchio.

18. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO SEND THIS BACK TO YOU?
Sure.

19. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING?
Brown velour skirt and pink wooden clogs.

20. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE?
HealthyPop Butter flavor popcorn, but I'm still hungry.

21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
The woman in the office next to mine is on the phone, trying to help a friend feel better. It sounds sad.

22. IF YOU WHERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE?
Today I’d be white. I’m looking forward to snow.

23. FAVORITE SMELLS?
Brad’s neck, woodsmoke, sweetgrass, Arnie’s fur, Red’s paws.

24. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
Brad.

25. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?
Penn State football.

26. HAIR COLOR?
Darker brown than most people realize.

27. EYE COLOR?
Blue.

28. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?
Yes.

39. FAVORITE FOOD?
Hamburgers.

30. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?
Happy endings. Always.

31. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED?
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.

32. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING?
White.

33. SUMMER OR WINTER?
In summer, winter. In winter, summer. Always, fall.

34. HUGS OR KISSES?
Big hugs.

35. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW?
Bright Lights, Big Ass by Jen Lancaster.

36. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?
I don’t use one.

37. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON T.V. LAST NIGHT?
I don’t watch tv.

38. FAVORITE SOUND?
Brad calling, “On belay,” Arnie scratching his back on the carpet, Red saying good morning.

39. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES?
No, thanks.

40. WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME?
Southeast Asia.

41. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT?
I remember every single thing a person was wearing at any point, right down to the make and model of their running shoes and what kind of barrette they have in their hair.

42. WHERE WERE YOU BORN?
Greensburg, Pennsylvania.

43. WHAT SUPERPOWER WOULD YOU LIKE?
Endless motivation.

SILLY

Most people – especially in Utah – don’t know that I foster an intense love of all things silly. It overtakes me at times, cracking me up in the middle of a conversation, a meeting, an inopportune time. Most of the time it’s remembered references to my youth, when my brother and I lost it over the Muppets, Saturday Night Live, the Simpsons (“That’s where I saw the leprechaun…he told me to burn things!”). This clip, from Sesame Street, was – and remains – one of our favorites:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TT-2dkJxomM

I mean, the turtleneck? Hilarious.

We especially like when Kermit loses it and his arms go all floppy. Our recent faves include Arrested Development ("These are my awards, Mother, from Army. The Seal is for Marksmanship, and the Gorilla is for sand racing.”) and the Family Guy…these are hilarities I’ll probably never share with Brad; his sense of humor is usually fairly different than mine.I admire him for his focus and drive, and hopefully he’ll find reason to admire me for my ability to laugh myself to tears at a one-handed man-child born of a frigid alcoholic and a crook. Tears: a magician named Gob. Tears: Tobias. Brad seems to find the silly, well, silly, even as I delight in it.

But back to the Muppets, can you get over this one?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OCbuRA_D3KU


Again, the turtlenecks are just too much.

Two nights ago, Brad and I were watching the Daily Show (I think we should be friends with Jon Stewart and Steven Colbert). In trying to explain how shabby his upbringings were, thus upstaging Obama at the 2004 Democratic National Convention, Colbert referenced his father, “the poor, Virginia turd farmer,” and his grandfather, “a goat ball licker.” Brad was laughing so hard he was emitting no sound at all, just rolling around on the floor and clutching his stomach. I laughed so hard I almost threw up.

Here’s my favorite writer right now: Jen Lancaster. I LAUGH out LOUD. Read her stuff; you will, too.