Guess what I got to do???

Dad took me for a ride on his Harley!  Too bad we didn't have a side car for this guy:

Ignatius watched us ride off from the driveway

Between riding with my dad and my stepmom handing me down a family heirloom--her biker chick jacket from the late 80's--I'm well on my way to being "scooter trash."  Jax Teller, here I come!

Places You Don't Wanna Go: Prisons, Jails, Hospitals

If I told you I'd taught at the high school, met with an observer, had a hair appointment, driven across three bridges, had a phone meeting, taught at the prison, and been to the office where I'm volunteering to pick up audio equipment--all today--would you believe me?

Well, 'tis the truth, and you better believe I'm hanging out with a glass of Cabernet right now after all that.  And the kicker is that I have to be at the jail two counties away at 7:30 in the morning.

Amidst all that havoc I listed above, my stepmom called and told me that my daddy is in the hospital!  They suspect he has a stomach ulcer. :(  I spoke to him today and he sounds just fine, and the doctors say it's all routine and probably not serious, but I still can't help but panic because a) I love my daddy and b) I'm an anxious freak.  Therefore, I've been googling all the things that could be terribly wrong with him.  My sister (the calmer Kiefer daughter to say the least) had to say "Claire--step away from the computer!"  I sure know how to work myself into a frenzy.

He's on a business trip in Minneapolis (of all places to get stuck in the hospital!) so my stepmom flew up there this afternoon just to make sure he's A-OK.  Fortunately she remembered to bring Alter-natius with her, since the real Ignatius isn't allowed on planes.  They texted me this pic tonight:

It may not be the real Ignatius, but at least my dad has a beagle in his immediate proximity.  And trust me--the stuffed Ignatius is a better choice as a hospital guest.  No one deserves to have the actual Ignatius in the building with them when they're recovering from surgery/birth/tests.

Please send all your positive thoughts to my daddy and cross your fingers that Friday (when I'm stepping on a plane headed to NYC!) gets here soon.

Weird news:  Tonight when I got to San Quentin, they were removing all ~1,000 beds from the H-Unit, in order to replace the springs on the metal bunk beds with a straight-welded "cookie sheet" slate.  Why?  Cause it occurred to the higher-ups that inmates could theoretically make shanks out of the "springs" in the frame (no, it hasn't been happening--I asked.  This is "preventative").  This is what the prison bunk beds looked like until today:

from, since I obvs can't take my own pics inside

and this is what they will look like from here on out:

Whew, what a relief that our state government is doing that.  Feels good to know that our tax dollars are being put to such good use!  

Check out my Daddy!

Brandon

Perhaps obsessiveness runs in the family.  I myself have not escaped the curse; as you know, I've watched this video about 864 times, lately I can't stop ordering takeout from Currylicious, and let's be honest: I still remember my 7th grade crush's home phone number, for that was the depth of my obsession (notice I said crush--this dream was never realized).


But I think my dad is worse than me.  His most recent obsession?  A termite-sniffing beagle.

from

My dad travels a lot for work, and claims that he found an article about "Brandon" in a hotel magazine.  Evidently, Brandon and his owner are the greatest new thing in pest control; the owner walks Brandon through the inside & outside of the house, and Brandon scratches wherever there are termites.  He is allegedly far more effective than humans or machines.  

It all started when my stepmom, sister, and I received this email from Dad:

Kit Kiefer to Amy, me, Kate

show details Jan 18 (9 days ago)

You have to watch the video! Unbelievable!

http://www.pestfree.com/meet-brandon

I couldn't get the video to load, but I figured it was just another one of the billions of dog-related things that he sends us all too frequently, so I shrugged it off.  However, Dad fired back:  YOU MUST SEE IT!  GOOGLE "BRANDON PEST CONTROL!"  So I did, hoping for something amazing.

Well . . . I mean, it is what it is.  I suppose it is mildly entertaining that this dog is so well-trained that he can detect termites.  But my enthusiasm for the whole thing gets me about as for as 0:24 into the video.

But my dad's outta control, y'all.   He's been signing emails to me: 

"Love you! (and Brandon),

Dad"

After fielding a couple phone calls from him just to talk about Brandon, I answered his last one, "Dad, is this call about Brandon?"  To which his answer was, " . . . . yes."

All of us but one have dismissed this as a period of temporary lunacy.  The one who's holding out?  You guessed it--Ignatius.

not a happy camper

Ignatius is pissed that all of Dad's attention is now on another beagle, and one that he's never even met, at that.  Ignatius is supposed to be the star of the show!  Who cares if he can't sniff termites??  

(This next part requires me to confess to y'all that Ignatius has a facebook page.  But by now my dad's sanity has already been discredited, so it should come as no surprise).  

Prior to checking out Ignatius's facebook page in the heat of all this "Brandon" stuff, I figured the funniest part about the whole ordeal was that the beagle's name is "Brandon."  Isn't it funny when pets have totally human names?  Cracks me up.  In any case, then I saw Ignatius's facebook status, and I laughed hard enough to see the value in all this: 

• 
  

  Ignatius R. Kiefer

  Brandon sucks.

  January 22 at 11:53am ·  · Comment
  

Things that Happened in Georgia

1.  Mama's back yard looked like this on Christmas Day!  And this was just the beginning of it--we got a few more inches by late afternoon:

note her neighbor's well behind the fence.  he's old school.

2.  Ignatius had surgery on Christmas Eve!  Thankfully it was just a benign lump (probably from eating too many loaves of bread/hamburger buns/plastic bags full of meat/chocolate/ice cream):

real convo that happened when Dad and I picked him up from surgery:

Dad:  Okay Clairey, Ignatius is probably going to be sedated . . .

Woman Behind Counter:  Ummm . . . NOPE!  He was howling the minute he woke up.

(Ignatius comes romping down the hall, barking, with vet tech in tow)

Dad:  Well.  I see he's not sedated.

Vet Tech:  This dog was like . . . a bomb in Afghanistan as soon as the surgery was over!

Other Vet Tech (shouting from parking lot):  We're not sad to see that dog go!

at home, post-surgery

3.  I drank egg nog out of my grandma's antique glasses in front of the Christmas tree on Christmas Eve:

4. I got to see this lil thing:

Lesley's daughter, Matilda

from Lesley's flickr

5.  My daddy got this big ass tattoo (only partially completed):

(a Skip Williamson original)

6. annnnnnnnnd . . . Micaela came to see me!!

I promise I am not a zombie!  

You all know how much I love this girl . . . cause I talk about her all the time.  Sadly, she's been living in Virginia (and I in San Francisco) for the duration of our friendship.  But as fortune would have it, I was at my mama's house in Georgia just as Micaela and her sweet husband were making the long road trip from Madison Heights, Virginia to their new home, El Paso, Texas!  They planned to stop and stay at Chip's grandfather's old farm house their first night on the road . . . conveniently located just 15 minutes from my mama's house!  

And although our time together was nowhere near long enough (Mama and I cooked breakfast for them last Thursday morning, the same day I left for the airport to head back to California), it was wonderful!  But hugging Micaela live and in the flesh only makes me yearn for a longer visit . . . she's so very dear to me (and every bit as beautiful and sweet in person as you all think she is).  Here's to a real trip very soon!!

Happy New Year . . . it was back to the grind for me today with classes & classes to teach.  Hope everyone's January is off to a good start!