If you’ve lived in Laramie for more than five minutes, you’ve probably noticed the antelope. Maybe you’ve had a conversation like this with a Laramie newbie:
Me: Ever since we moved to Wyoming I’ve noticed antelope inside the fences along the highway. What are people raising the antelope for? Do they eat antelope here?
Husband: (still laughing)
Husband: The antelope jump over the fences. No one’s raising antelope. They just go where they want to.
Husband: (laughs some more)]]>
The joy of hearing the mosquito fogging truck: https://www.facebook.com/ThisIsLaramie/photos/a.938535406224402/2328813883863207/
My Favorite Things song parody: http://thisislaramie.com/a-slice-of-laramie-the-musical/?fbclid=IwAR14WEn6NMt2PUsu176YYU1LYrAp_0j3WThPDhxi9KL0PfkkTqbRVtKoasE
A Thanksgiving Rant: http://thisislaramie.com/a-slice-of-laramie-has-questions/
An Only-in Wyoming COVID Test: http://thisislaramie.com/a-slice-of-laramie-gets-swabbed/
My Best Wyoming Memes: http://thisislaramie.com/a-slice-of-laramie-made-some-memes/]]>
When my husband first built the fence around the pen, he didn’t build it quite high enough, and the chickens escaped multiple times every day. Instead of running free to the large open field behind our property these dumb birds ran towards our house EVERY TIME. So we’d hear them clucking, and my kids would dash outside to round up the offending chicken and toss her back into the pen. It only took a few weeks of this chaos before my husband fixed the fence.
After about 6 months the chickens started laying, and let me tell you, it’s nice to never have to buy eggs at the grocery store. Except… apparently our family doesn’t eat eggs all that often. Even though we only have eight birds, it seems like half of my refrigerator space is taken up by egg cartons. A friend stopped by yesterday afternoon and took four dozen and we still have four more cartons in the fridge. My kids say they’ll open an egg stand on our street and sell the eggs, but it keeps snowing and thwarting their plans (Laramie weather, amiright?)
Besides the constant supply of eggs, the chickens also serve the very important purpose of giving me something to do with the ridiculous amount of food waste my kids generate. Chickens, it turns out, will eat pretty much anything, unlike my children. So if the kids don’t want to eat the crusts off their sandwich? “Feed it to the chickens!” Tried the broccoli but won’t eat the rest? “Feed it to the chickens!” Took too many chicken nuggets and now they’re full? “Put them in the garbage, we’re not creating cannibals!”]]>
Sometimes I hear the rooster crow midday and I close my eyes and pretend I’m living on a farm (with less manure, of course). Other times, I hear the rooster crow and wonder which of my neighbors it is that hates the rest of us enough to keep a rooster. Sometimes the rooster noise prompts me to look up Laramie’s municipal code, which is fascinating. Did you know you can keep an emu or ostrich in Laramie as long as you keep it “only for the purpose of education, science, personal security, competition, exhibition, personal consumption, riding or packing.”
Now I want the rooster to disappear AND I want a personal security ostrich.]]>
Killjoy me: The mosquitos will be out soon. You have allergies, remember? You like sneezing? How about the wind? It could literally blow your laptop away.
Me: Maybe I’ll just stay inside.]]>
My phone told me it was 66 degrees today when I went to the grocery store, so I happily hung my coat back on its hook and got in my car. My car’s thermometer, however, said it was only 48 degrees. At my kids’ school, they say “at 42 it’s up to you!” meaning the kids can choose to wear a coat or not if it’s warmer than 42 degrees. But for me? 48 degrees is a no-brainer, I’m wearing a coat. I spent the entire drive to Safeway (I say entire drive, but you all know it was only seven minutes because Laramie) looking back and forth between the dashboard and my phone, trying to figure out which device was lying to me. Luckily it was the car. It was warm and gorgeous for my entire minute and a half walk from the parking lot to the store. What a relief!]]>
Now that I drive this small car that looks like a lot of other cars, I have lots of moments in parking lots where I can’t find my car. My heart always skips a little—did someone steal my car? And then I remember I live in Laramie, and statistically speaking, my car is much more likely to be hidden behind a giant truck than it is to be stolen.
So whenever I can’t find my car, I just walk towards the biggest truck I can see, and sure enough, my little car is usually hiding on the other side. Right where it belongs.]]>
Me: Which park do you want to go to?
6yo: I don’t remember what it’s called.
Me: Okay, tell me about it.
6yo: The one with the red slide.
Me: LaBonte Park?
Me: Washington Park?
It ended up being Kiwanis Park she wanted to go to, which, for the record, does not have a red slide.
Or this conversation with my older two children:
Me: Which park do you want to meet your friends at?
11yo: I dunno, name some parks.
Me: LaPrele Park, with the pond.
9yo: Uh uh.
Me: The park by Walmart?
11yo: No, too windy.
Me: Optimist Park?
9yo: Can we play in the river?
11yo: Then not that one.
Me: JUST PICK A PARK I DON’T CARE WHICH ONE.
9yo: The one by the farmer’s market?
Me: That’s barely a park pick a different one.
So maybe Laramie doesn’t have a park problem, maybe my family has a park selection problem.]]>
It’s been a long time since I last watched Gremlins—we’re talking at least fifteen years. I’d forgotten how absolutely bonkers this movie is. And maybe because I wasn’t a parent at the time, I didn’t fully appreciate how awesome Billy’s mom was at killing the gremlins. The woman microwaved a monster. It just doesn’t get any better than that.
What did you do during the snowstorm?]]>