I’m back from visiting friends and family in Cheyenne, Wyoming. I have a lot to blog about, including my introduction to fried pickles and peanut butter (a pregnant Jenny suggested it, totally uninfluenced, she said, by her pregnancy). I liked them a lot. And I’m not pregnant. So there you go. It was a whirlwind tour from Cheyenne to South Dakota and back again with many adventures along the way. But before I detail all of these adventures, I have to discuss the event that completely ruined my trip.

Sunday night, while digging through some things to bring back to LA from storage, I came across my old Crocodile Hunter action figure. Aleks and I had fun pushing the button to make him say “What a rippa!” and “Crikey!”. I woke up Monday morning to some really really lousy news.
Steve Irwin, one of my heroes (laugh if you want), was killed by a stingray off the coast of Australia. I know many feel he was always asking for trouble with his unconventional nature around animals. I feel he was doing his part to make animals interesting and dynamic for a youth culture weaned on MTV with no attention span whatsoever. I love animals, and I know Steve did too. I only hope Terri and the kids are okay. Steve was a man who lived for every minute, a man of passion and sheer joy. I for one will deeply miss his presence.