Category: awkward

Noise Pollution & Tasty Morsels

So there I am, Saturday morning, sleeping in a quiet bed in a quiet room at an undisclosed location somewhere near Radium Springs.

It’s the first real quiet I’ve enjoyed in six months. That was the last time I visited Southern New Mexico.

And then, literally cutting through the early morning hours comes, this:



That’s a lot of saw blades!

It’s tree trimming time at the pecan farm next door to my best friend’s place.

A piece of heavy farm equipment with six whirring saw blades cutting through hearty pecan wood sounds, well….just about as awful as you’d expect. Every once in a while they’d hit an especially green branch and the sound was the stuff of nightmares.

After the saw passed by, the trees looked like a line of military recruits with brand new flattops.



Evidently pecan trees will immediately put out new growth in the areas where they have been cut. Futher, pecan nuts flourish on new growth, so pecan farmers cut back the trees to boost production.

I gotta say, back in my formative years, I don’t remember pecan farmers cutting back trees so much. But then again, we didn’t have the robust demand for pecans from Asian markets that we see today.

From a 2011 WSJ article: “Five years ago, China bought hardly any pecans. In 2009, China bought one-quarter of the U.S. crop, and there’s no sign demand is abating.”

So farmers will do just about anything to boost production.
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Hey, did you know that pecan trees are notorious water hogs? And right now, the drought in New Mexico is palpable.

Oh, but that’s a different story for another day.



Photos Copyright 2012, Karen Fayeth and subject to the Creative Commons license in the far right column of this page. Top photo taken with my Canon Rebel, bottom photo taken with my iPhone4s and the Camera+ app.


It’s Hard Being a Nina (godmother)

My oldest godchild is now eleven years old and she’s a smart, beautiful, inquisitive child.

She and I have a pretty strong relationship. She trusts me enough to talk about some things she won’t talk to her parents about. I’ve worked very hard to be a safe place for her to talk to a grownup without worries of getting in trouble.

She also likes to challenge me. Since she was old enough to talk and form opinions, she has often hit me with the query….

“Nina Karen, what if….”

The question that follows is some scenario straight from the depths of her powerful child’s brain. Then she waits patiently to hear my thoughts.

Sometimes the questions are pretty easy, like:

“Nina Karen, what if I ate ALL the cookies and not just some?”

I explained that while it would be awesome for a little while, she would probably get a tummy ache. And then she would likely throw up. And then she probably wouldn’t like cookies any more.

The thought of not liking cookies any longer was enough to dissuade her from eating ALL the cookies. Whew, one point for the Nina.

Sometimes the questions are a lot more difficult and challenge my powers of Nina-dom.

“Nina Karen, what if I didn’t want to go to special math class anymore?”

At school, she was placed in an advanced math program and had to leave her classroom to go to math class every day. The other kids teased and bullied her about it.

That one was a bit tougher to work through.

But I did ok.

So now I know when that little voice says, “Nina Karen…what if…” I should brace myself.

I was unprepared, however, on Saturday evening.

A dear friend was getting married, and I sat in the venue with a goddaughter on each side of me.

The wedding was just about to begin. We could see the bride and her attendants coming down the hallway to line up for the service to start.

And my oldest godkid turned to me and said:

“Nina Karen? What if right when the minister says ‘you may kiss the bride,’ she farted?”

I’m quoting that word for word. No embellishments.

I looked at the cherubic child. I looked away. I looked back into her earnest blue eyes.

And started laughing.

Since I’m suffering under a powerful case of the flu, the laughing caused me to dissolve into a massive coughing fit that echoed off the walls and high ceilings and the other guests gave me dirty looks.

Thankfully, I was, quite literally, saved by the music. The cello quartet started and the wedding began and the beauty of the bride stole the attention of the room.

Which is good, because I have no idea how I was going to answer that question.






Image from Zazzle


Testing That Hypothesis

“You learn a lot about our society, who we are and where we are headed…and you learn a lot about yourself when you board a Southwest Airlines flight.”

— Bob Fitzgerald, on his Feb 14th afternoon KNBR radio show.


To which his partner, Rod Brooks responded, “There’s a lot of truth to that.”

To which I replied, out loud, to my car radio “There’s A LOT of truth to that!!!”

Today I’m going in there for the sake of science, entertainment and friendship.

Yup, I’m testing that theory.

I’ll be boarding a flight headed for the garden city of El Paso. I gots me a social engagement in Las Cruces and some godkids to hug.

I hear there’s some green chile that needs eatin’ too. I’m on it.

Watch out New Mexico, here I come!!

Whoooo!






Photo Copyright 2007, Karen Fayeth. Taken just outside of Deming, eastbound on I-10.


Ethically Correct, but Way Less Fun

I got an advance peek at the agenda for the wedding I’m going to this weekend. There’s all the usual stuff you’d expect, including the part where the bride and groom leave the reception to go start their new life together. Bubbles will be handed out to attendees to herald their departure.

It used to be rice, but rice proved to be unhealthy for the birds who ate it and got bad tummy aches.

Then it moved to birdseed, which was awesome for the birds, but not so good for the wedding venues who had to try to shoo a million fat pigeons away. And then power wash all that poop. Ugh.

So now, we’re at bubbles. Water based. Ethically correct. Fun in their own way, but not really as fun as rice or birdseed.

I remember well when I was just a young’un back in high school and I attended by brother’s wedding. When the time came for the bride and groom to head out, a bag of birdseed was dropped into my palm. I opened it and dumped the contents into my hand. As my brother walked by with his beautiful bride, I’d intended to sort of toss it and shower the happy couple.

Somehow in my over zealousness, I overhanded the batch and power drove a pile of birdseed into my sibling.

At first I was horrified.

Then I laughed my ass off. Um. Whoops.

And now, some 26 years later (has it really been 26 years? Wow. Happy Anniversary you crazy kids) the memory still kind of makes me laugh.

A lot. Out loud. Not because I powerblasted my brother, that was rude. Because I often crack myself up at what a complete wackadoodle I can be.

For the couple marrying this weekend, I probably would have given them a nice gentle rice toss and avoided any grievous harm, as I’m both older and wiser. Suffice to day I won’t be causing any physical harm with a bubble this weekend. Really, it’s better this way.

Except for my dress (as yet to be purchased) because I always end up spilling soapy bubble water down my front in my over zealousness. See? Whackadoodle.

Really, what this all means is that I need to cool my jets a little better and keep myself in low gear. I intend to try (some but not too much) wine, maybe beer, to suit this purpose. (Too much = exponential wackadoodle)

Perhaps a couple glasses of bubbly? Hmm……






Today’s Theme Thursday is: bubbles


A Nordstrom Epiphany

Yeah, so, I’m attending a friend’s wedding this weekend.

After a decade and a half of working in Silicon Valley companies with their schlubby dress codes, it turns out that I have a lot of pants and very few dresses in my closet.

This wedding is taking place in a lovely art gallery in Southern New Mexico. A really elegant place. This is going to be a very classy wedding.

Oh god…I need to wear a dress. And I don’t have one. Or at least not one nice enough for this shindig.

So today after work, I went shopping.

I hate shopping.

I used to really, really love shopping. Adored clothes. Couldn’t get enough shoes.

But not anymore.

Today as I sighed and whined, I closed my eyes and asked myself “why do I hate shopping this much?”

Then I opened my eyes and the answer lay there in front of me.

I dislike shopping so much these days because:


I’m living in a


kind of world.





And I have become a


kind of girl.



That explains it all.



Photos Copyright 2012, Karen Fayeth, and subject to the Creative Commons license in the far right column of this page.

Photos taken with an iPhone4s using the Camera+ app.