Kimba

A thousand words.....

Yes, he really will......

He loves me this much.......

An interchange between Caleb and I today at church, discussing emergency preparedness kits:

"So, do you think we should get two one-month supply kits? Or just one for now?"

"Well, that depends, how long do you want to survive?"

Fish, in all the wrong places....

I am constantly amazed at the area we live in, it's diversity. We're smack dab in the middle of the Silicon Valley, a veritable jungle of cars, industrial parks, and a rat maze of highways. Yet we can hop in the car and be lounging at the beach in 30 minutes, enjoying the sound of waves crashing, the smell of the ocean. Watching the pelicans skim the waters surface, and then dive-bombing the unsuspecting fish below. Rather comical, actually.

I love it.

Caleb insisted we take the dog today, which is never my favorite thing. The beach allows dogs but they must be leashed, which is a concept that Bear can't quite seem to grasp. And of course, there is the sand. I don't think I need to say anything more about that.

He seemed to enjoy himself though. So long as he didn't get in the water...he's a little bit of a baby.

Caleb, enjoying his Grapple (pronounced "grape-l"). It's an apple that tastes like a grape! And smells like Kool Aid! Fun for the whole family!

Me, enjoying a lovely book....but secretly people-watching. There is a fine line between looking and staring, and I cross it every day. I can't help it. See those girls in the back round? High school girls, one of them like, SO loving life, because her parents "pay for all her &%*$." Like totally.

What could possibly top such a lovely day? A soak in the tub? A good movie? No, not here. We ended the night by scaring the living daylights out of the dog. Bear was laying on the floor totally exhausted and in a deep sleep. Caleb snuck up on him and scared him out of his slumber, and I'm not kidding you, I've never seen Bear jump up so fast. Not even when one of us slips and says the p-a-r-k word. His eyes flew open, and he let out a quick yip, dashing out of the room.

We laughed of course, until we smelled The Fishbutt. Apparently Bear has decided that leaking his death-anal-fluid is much more effective of a tactic, than say, piddling.

I'd dare say he was right. I can promise you that neither of us will ever do that again.

Bridgette? Are you reading this? I'm going to be buying some Chem-Dry to replace your bottle...

Holding On

As a young couple, in the beginning years of running a franchise, we're pretty frugal. Largely though, because we're just that way. Just recently I bought new flip flops to replace the $3.99 pair I bought at Fred Meyer....7 years ago.

(I should mention that Caleb very nearly forced me to hang them up, I was holding on for dear life.)

Last night we went on a shopping spree at Target and I bought a sports bra to replace the one I've been using since um.......junior high. Or was it even before then?

(Technically it wasn't even a sports bra, but a costume bra turned sports bra.) Believe it or not, I've grown a bit since then. It was high time.

I do not classify myself as a pack-rat though, I just tend to stick with stuff I like. I do think I can safely can add "clothing rut" to my list of OCD tendencies. Among so many others....

To be honest, I finally handed over all the clothing I wore in high school before we moved here. I still wore a good portion of it, but how long can one shirt really last? How many washings before I've officially got my money's worth? Surely five plus years is enough....it was actually really nice to downsize my wardrobe, if only to make more room for Caleb's. I've mentioned his inability to let things, especially clothing, go before. Trying to gently pry a six year old faded button down shirt out of Caleb's hands is like trying to convince a four year old to hand over all his Halloween candy. It just isn't going to happen without a fight.

But that is SO unlike me holding on to my flip flops. Not even related.

Gushing? Why yes, yes it is...

Random websites and fun little diddlies...

• Trash the Dress: Even though I experienced a small hernia seeing these gorgeous wedding gowns in the mud or sea, I couldn't help clicking through every single page. Absolutely gorgeous. Gutsy. Fun. Will definitely be keeping tabs on this site!

• Curlisto: Great website to troubleshoot your hair. And the best part? You can get professional advice on your OWN HAIR. Just send a picture of your unstyled, product free hair to info@curlisto.com. I can't wait to get some advice on my frizz!!!

• Apparently May is Med Spa Month. Who knew?! To celebrate, one company is offering their pricey services ($250 - $500!) for $99. Find out if there is a participating spa near you!

• Lush: Oh how I love this store. Everything about it, from the all natural ingredients to the funky names and packaging. I recently decided to try out a few more products and I was not let down. Their "Rehab" shampoo is amazing - totally strips my hair of all the products I've slathered on to combat The Frizz. My hair has never been softer. I heart Rehab.

• I also decided to try their "Ultralight" face moisturizer, and WOW. I would buy another tub just for the smell. Strangely the one I purchased smells different than the one in the store, but maybe because it wasn't new (since Lush's products are all natural, they do have a shelf life, just fyi). Anyway. Love the smell. It's a perfect blend for my normal skin (if you have oily skin, you might want to try another product...). I use it at night AND during the day, and my face is SO soft. Love it. It goes perfect with my....

• "Purity" face wash from Philosophy. Slightly pricey*? Yes. Worth it? DOUBLE YES.... Confession: I didn't actually pay for it, I used my Drugstore.com dollars. It's very unfortunate though, because I've inadvertently created a monster. I.LOVE.THIS.STUFF. Love. Would marry it and have little soft, sweet-smelling Philosophy babies with it. SO gentle, and the smell is absolutely intoxicating. I drift off to sleep each night with a cheesy grin.

*Get the middle size - not breaking the bank, and it lasts forever...a little really DOES go a long way.

Run! Dance! Play my children!

The Hotness....it burns....

Tonight I went to a fun little get together with the ladies in my church. I helped make the salsa at the end, chopping green peppers and jalapenos. Despite washing my hands four times, I still have jalapeno juices on my fingers.

Even knowing this, I've managed to inadvertently put my fingers in my mouth on four different occasions. My mouth is on FIRE. FLAMES. You'd think I would learn.

I also rubbed my eye a few minutes ago. FIRE. FLAMES. TEARS.

I am not learning. I am learnedly challenged.

Let's see if I can get myself ready for bed, shall we? This should be an adventure.....

Weekend Festivites

With our friends in town this weekend we celebrated two birthdays and the decade that exists between Caleb and Mark. That's right, a decade. 10 years.

You wouldn't know it though, watching the two together.

I'd been planning this party for a while, had reserved the theatre room and lounge in our apartment complex. We ordered pizza, drinks, and I'd made Caleb's favorite - Better Than Sex cake. (No comments, I get it.) We were going to play pool, foosball, table shuffle board, and finish it up with a movie in the theatre room. Oh, we were going to have a grand time!

That is, until it all started unraveling.

First, the apartment staff forgot to leave out the pool sticks and balls. We called the after hours pager and are still waiting for their return call.

One of the shuffle board pieces was missing.

The remotes that they gave us to use on the tv and projector didn't have batteries. Or the batteries were dead. Or whatever.

The light bulb in the projector was broken.

The trash compactor wouldn't turn on.

While annoying, it didn't deter us from eating our weight in pizza and cake. Which is really all that matters, right?

The boys show off their matching grandpa slippers, proudly.

About to partake of The Pizza, and rather excited about it.

The Chicken Dance. In which Caleb channels the Chicken Gods to come possess his body. This is a rare occasion, him performing for other people. It is usually reserved for me when I am feeling particularly down. The Chicken Gods work together with Caleb to cheer me up, as their sole mission is to promote happiness. If only everyone could experience it.

Shuffle board. In which they channeled their Grandpa Slipper Powers.

The only picture in DOZENS that is somewhat in focus. Babies move A.LOT.
Again, this face could bring about world peace. Solve world hunger.

The Gang. The Group. Really, we're framily. Or famnds.

You can't buy these kinds of friends. Once in a lifetime, that's for sure.

Guests

We've got some friends in town this weekend, the two couples that we hung out with in Oregon. This little guy came along and made our group seven.

Is it possible to not love that face?! I propose that it is not. He's so big now, I can't get over it. He has little boy hair! And he's not even a year yet.

He fell off the air mattress. He's good though, little boys are rugged like that.

I love this little guy.

Just dripping with it....

I have been addicted to this site since this morning. Addicted.

I read this one while taking a break at work (uh....huh....) and it nearly did me in. Word to the wise: do NOT read this at work unless you've got a few minutes to compose yourself. What with the tears and the air-gulping, well. It's just not professional.

Does wonders for the abs though, there is that.

I forwarded Caleb the link and he was not amused. Caleb doesn't appreciate The Sarcasm the way I do. I can't help it, it's in my blood. I come from a long line of sarcastic debaters (oh how we love to argue!), and this has been the bain of my existence / the fuel to my fire.

I secretly love it.

Caleb overtly does not.

So if ya'll are lovin' the sarcasm, check it out. If you're lookin' for ponies and rainbows, well, this just isn't your cup of tea.

Dog Park Habits

We took Bear to the dog park today, he hasn't been for a while. Every time we pull into the parking lot Bear goes nuts, doing that silly high-pitched whine with his mouth closed. I'm always afraid someone is going to hear and call Animal Control on us. It sounds like we're beating him.

We were standing around watching Bear run from one dog to the next sniffing hello, when a woman arrived with her Doberman Pinscher. I was a little excited, you see, I've always had a thing for Dobermans. They're absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous. You should see them run, they've got the most graceful gait. Their face is so noble, protective. Super cuddly, they think they're lap dogs. Big, muscle-encased lap dogs.

Sigh. I digress.

The Dobie's owner was standing a few feet away from us, no doubt watching my eyes follow her dog like you would a tennis match.

"So, which one is your dog?" she asked Caleb and I.

We glanced around the park and found Bear. Oh, we found him alright. He was clutching onto the back of a Black Lab, doing his best to make up for his lost manhood.

"Um..............he's.........well..........." we both stammered.

"He's the one on top?" She joked.

Yeah....... awkward silence......

So we love the dog park. We're just not loving the bad habits he's picked up. I'm blaming this incident on what happened during our last visit. The minute we'd walked into the park Bear met a dog that took an immediate, all-consuming liking to him. The dog followed Bear around the entire time trying to hump him. THE ENTIRE TIME. As I watched Bear trying to shake him off, I actually could see the annoyance in his eyes. Like, DUDE, what is his DEAL?! It wasn't long before Bear got frustrated enough to seek revenge, giving him the what-for.

As we left today the Black Lab followed us to the gate, humping Bear the entire way.

Lesson learned? At the dog park, what goes around, comes around.

(and........cue Justin Timberlake.....)

Happy Birthday Caleb

Caleb, remember when we....

*got caught making out by my Dad? And that cop? And that other one? And my sister, peeking through the blinds? And our friend's Dad? And those kids in the park?

*drove down to Vegas on Valentine's Day? We wandered around the various casinos until six in the morning. There weren't any restaurants open on the strip, so we ate at the McDonald's in the Luxor. We got tired driving home and pulled over to sleep at a trucker stop. I drove home and you slept the entire way, waking up every hour on the hour to pee. Too much Gatorade....

*danced outside your apartment in Houston in the rain? We ran all over the complex trying to find the biggest puddle to splash in. I've never seen it rain that hard before.

*drove off the side of the road in your car and the tv we were hauling broke your back window? That was the most I've ever heard you swear.

*drove around your cabin in the little red buggy? My hair was short back then, and whipped me in the eyes the entire time. I've never seen such gorgeous fall leaves in my entire life. It was breathtaking.

*took your nephew and my little sister to the dinosaur exhibit at Thanksgiving Point? We bought him an ice cream cone after, and you made the mistake of actually giving it to him in the car....

*waited outside Smith's Marketplace all night long for the Olympic Medals Ceremony tickets? You woke up early and snuck to your car to use the hairspray you'd brought along...which we all teased you for.

*stayed up until 4 am talking on the phone? We'd just barely started dating, and I told you things about myself that my best friends didn't even know. I had no idea why I was pouring out every little thing, laying it out in front of you. You reciprocated, and I felt better about myself.

*nearly ran out of gas driving down from the volcano in Maui? You kept our little sardine-sized rental car in neutral and we coasted into a gas station on fumes. However, you still managed to stop on the way down to take pictures....

*flew in that small airplane for our senior prom's day activity? You surprised me, and we flew all over Park City on down to Bountiful. You'd told my family about it and so when we flew over my house they was waiting for us on the driveway, little dots waving their arms. We nearly died landing, it was so stormy and windy. The pilot tried several times, always flying in sideways......You were so scared I thought you were going to crush every bone in my hand.

*drove up into the mountains? You'd gone up early to set up a couch on the hill so that we could watch the sun set, and you asked me to prom. We watched the thunder clouds roll over Antelope Island, and enjoyed the warm smell of rain in the air.

*hopped in your car at midnight to drive into the mountains to watch the meteor shower? It was the dead of winter, and we laid on your tailgate in sleeping bags to keep warm.

*were both so sick with the throat sores? As horrible as they were, I was secretly glad you had them too, so we could commiserate together on the phone for that dreadful week.

*went to Cheeseburger Mai Tai in Maui and loved it so much that we went back the next day, and nearly ordered (you deviator you!) the exact same thing?

*met up on a tiny beach in Galveston, TX? I was down there visiting Abby's brother and you and Tom were driving down some furniture for your sister. I gave you horribly vague directions to the beach house we were staying at, and you managed to find it. We spent the evening swimming in the ocean and playing cards.

*spent the evening cleaning up the water in the basement of your old house? The sprinkler pipe had broken and there was an inch of water soaking in the carpet. We laid out as many towels as we could and jumped around trying to get it all up.

*went to see Coldplay at the Salt Palace? I'd surprised you with tickets for Valentine's Day. I only knew one song but it didn't matter, you enjoyed it for the both of us.

*rolled down Valley View Elementary's big hill? You weren't in a good mood, so I made you pull over. I grabbed your hand and ran down the rock path and just started rolling down the hill. You sat and watched me at first, trying to keep the corners of your lips from curving upward. It didn't work, and soon we were both rolling down the hill like logs.

*used to go stack the deer on people's lawns? We nearly got caught that one time in Reece's car, and he nearly had kittens because he was just about to leave on his mission.

*went ice skating in downtown Salt Lake? Paul was there, and decked me in the face with a ball of snow / ice. You were so mad, but who would challenge Paul? Not me....(okay, so I did once in elementary...but that's beside the point...)

*went to see the lights at Temple Square, and your knee was injured from skiing? I pushed you around the grounds in a wheelchair and enjoyed all the stares people gave us.

*went fishing at your parents house and you taught me how to fly fish? The only thing I caught that day was the dog....

*climbed the tree in front of the church on Main Street? We sat up there for hours talking and watching the people below us. They had no idea.

*went boating with Jason, Cole & his neighbor? I had to come pick you up, and didn't know you at all. That big rock hit my windshield and you were absolutely aghast that I didn't freak out.

*went to see the fireworks at Mueller Park? We took Bear and he FLIPPED. We spent the entire time holding him under the blanket.

*first saw each other after I'd been in Australia, and you in Houston? I surprised you at the airport, you thought I was still in Australia. That look on your face was PRICELESS, I am so glad we caught it on camera.

*first went to Lake Powell with my family? I thought for sure that a solid week of my family burping, farting, and teasing each other would scare you off. Apparently it didn't.

*got engaged at your cabin on Christmas Eve? That was also where we had our first official date, and this last Christmas we spent the weekend there, my first time staying over night. It was absolutely freezing outside, but you built a warm fire and it was so cozy. I slept so well that night. It was calm, peaceful. I was perfectly content.

I love you Caleb. :) Happy Birthday!!

So as not to be gawked at....

Should you ever find yourself at Tomatina restaurant....

That salad on a pita? Should be FOLDED you fools! You'll eat it with your hands and you'll like it.

Oh, you'll like it. I can promise you that.

Old

Can't talk now, must go watch "Jungles" on Planet Earth!!!!! How am I going to survive once this show is over?!?!

Besides, I've got nothing interesting to report. On Friday we took the dog to the dog park after work, hit a local restaurant for dinner, and then watched "Wimbledon". It was on tv. I've never in my life felt so much like an adult. Take the kids to the park, a quick "date", and then turn in early.

All I needed was some pink curlers in my hair and a long nightie. Tall glass of Metamucil. Lawrence Whelk anyone?

Fresh Pesto Pasta Salad

I'm a little reluctant to give away this insanely wonderful recipe - but feel I must, because it was so generously given to me by my good friend Bridgette. I must pass on the love. It's really easy. It's absolutely delightful. It's a perfect addition to a summer barbecue. Or when you're feelin' the winter blues.......

Fresh Pesto Pasta Salad

1 pkg. (16 oz) small shell pasta*

1/3 c. red wine vinegar

1 T. sugar

1 tsp. salt

1 tsp. Dijon mustard

1 pressed garlic clove

3/4 c. olive oil

1 c. chopped fresh** basil

1 pkg (3 oz.) shredded parmesan cheese

1/2 c. toasted pinenuts***

cherry tomatoes, cut

Prepare pasta, run under cool water and drain. In a separate bowl, whisk vinegar & next five ingredients. Gradually whisk in olive oil. Add vinaigrette to pasta. Add chopped basil, cheese, pinenuts, tomato. Toss, serve, and graciously accept the gratuitous comments which will be inevitable.

*I use bowtie. Cause it's cute. But I SUPPOSE you could use whatever you wanted.....

**MUST be fresh. MUST. It's what makes this salad.

***DOESN'T have to be toasted. I've done both. Still great either way.

Taxes and Shock Therapy

I don't think I have anything to say. I've been staring at this blank screen for several minutes now, willing something interesting or funny or insightful to flow through my fingers.

As if that sort of thing happened here.

Ha!

Really though, I'm just burnt. It's at the end of a long day, a long week rather, and my entire self is completely and utterly wrapped around the fact that despite the deadline being mere HOURS away, my taxes aren't done. And oh, yup, there goes the IBS.

I am a list maker. A planner. A finish-it-before-it's-due kinda girl. I have to be this way, or my stomach will fold in on itself like a black hole. The Black Hole of Anxiety.

Which is about where I am right now. So I'm going to go to bed and try to not think about the fact that when my alarm goes off tomorrow morning it will be six hours closer to the deadline.

Certainly over his tummy woes....

(Ohmigosh, YES! Another dog post! The madness! You love it!!)

One of my friends at work introduced us to The Light. The haven of a rested (read: completely and utterly worn out) dog.

Enter, The Dog Park.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!! Cue the Angel Music....

The blur of The Pack

As soon as we let Bear off his leash he took off running and didn't stop. Not until we practically had to drag him out an hour later. Not unlike dragging a toddler away from the candy isle at the grocery store.

A large group of the dogs there just wanted to run. No rhyme or reason to it, one would just take off and the rest would follow. We watched this pack run over a man not once, but twice. This may be partly due to the fact that after the first time the guy was pummeled he continued to lie there on his back, his arms and legs curled into himself. When he finally got up and brushed himself off, he sheepishly looked at his audience and said "I....I....just felt like lying there for a while."

Uh....huh......

Sweet, shy little puppy...

Bear thought he had died and gone to heaven. Not only were there dozens of other dogs to sniff and play with, but several People had brought their own balls and /or Chuck-Its. Bear has a weakness for Chuck-Its and he'd make a beeline to anyone holding one, waiting patiently for them to throw the ball for him. He'd steal it every time and madly dash away.

As shown here.

One happy mutt. And Caleb's Fred Flintstone foot.

Them bones, them bones....

My dog gets into things. Things he shouldn't. Things he KNOWS he shouldn't. Things that will make him puke. He's got to have figured it out by now, right? Eat something out of the tall white bin = puking in the corner.

Hasn't figured it out yet.

So it's Easter Sunday. I gingerly take out the Butt Ham and make a point to stuff the plastic wrapping and sponge (to soak up the butt juices....lovely....) from the bottom of the bag into the depths of the garbage can. I know my dog.

Of course though, when we returned from church we discovered that the smell of the cooking ham had proved to be too much for our dog, who had sought to satisfy his cravings. The meat bag was in pieces on the floor.

The usual scolding followed, but since it WAS Easter we decided to give him the ham bone anyway. We either hand it over nicely or he riffles through the trash to get it, right? At least this way I know he's not smashing ham bits into the carpet.

He is not used to getting treats. Here, the mind of my dog....

I have no speech.

Quick! Scan the horizon for poachers!!

Meat meat meat...I love meat....

I am unable to convey my gratitude: I lick in your general direction.

I wish I could end the post here, with my dog adequately fat on ham butt. But no, such is not the case. As you probably could guess.

Let's fast forward a few hours. While Caleb and I are rubbing our full bellies, the mutt noses the door, his usual sign for I am Bored. Release me. After obliging him for an hour or so, Caleb lets him in and discovers the sponge from the ham butt bag. Unless we've been visited by the Butt Sponge Fairy, (oh the Google searches that will pull up....) I think we can safely assume the sponge didn't sprout legs and make it's way to the porch. It had some help from a greedy dog tummy.

Do you think it felt used? Toyed with a bit? Like a fish, tossed back into the ocean?

So. Puke. We've got puke.

The next afternoon the situation is repeated. Nudge & oblige. This time however Caleb opens the door to the deck and discovers a veritable Poop War Zone. With casualties aplenty.

We spent the next 24 hours letting Bear out any time he got antsy. He did not disappoint. Which actually, is rather nice at 4 am. I'd rather drag myself out of bed, down three flights of stairs, and into the cold knowing that I was preventing another Attack of the Killer Poop. And when I say I, I mean Caleb. I felt better knowing he wasn't braving the bleary night (who has time for contacts at 4 am?) in vain.

Not that I didn't feel sorry for the dog. I'm not totally immune to the pathetic groans of a dog mid-squat. He got a few tummy rubs.

Lesson learned. The hard way. Yet again.

Nothing says Easter like.....

Mmm....hickory butt ham.....

We were feeling the "Easter Spirit" and decided to give Bear the bone.

We shouldn't have. More on that tomorrow. Right now I need to keep myself from gagging...

Easter 101

Does anyone wonder we color eggs at Easter? What's up with the Easter Bunny? And why in the world is it laying eggs?

I was. So I looked it up. :) A couple of blurbs, below...

Why eggs?
Eggs, like rabbits and hares, are fertility symbols of extreme antiquity; since birds lay eggs and rabbits and hares give birth (to large litters) in the early spring, these became symbols of the rising fertility of the earth at the Vernal Equinox.

And why color them?
The precise origin of the custom of coloring eggs is not known, although it too is ancient; Greeks to this day typically dye their Easter eggs red, the color of blood, in recognition of the renewal of life in springtime (and, later, the blood of the sacrificed Christ). Some also use the color green, in honor of the new foliage emerging after the long "dead" time of winter. Other colors, including the pastels popular in the United States and elsewhere (possibly symbolizing the rainbow), seem to have come along later.

Why is a bunny laying eggs anyway?
Recently, a neopagan legend has sprung up concerning the Easter Bunny. Though it is usually circulated as an ancient Pagan tradition, it does not appear before 1990; According to the story, the goddess Eostre found a wounded bird in the snow. To help the little bird survive the winter, she transformed it into a rabbit, but the transformation was incomplete and the rabbit retained the ability to lay eggs. In thanks for its life being saved, the rabbit took the eggs and decorated them and left them as gifts for Eostre.

Some other traditions....

Some communities in the United States have renamed the animal the "Spring Bunny," to avoid perceived religious overtones. This has provoked some controversy.

In Hungary children prepare nests, in which the Bunny will leave eggs, chocolates and other presents. Sometimes the parents present a live rabbit to their child.

In Australia, rabbits are an invasive species and generally considered pests. A long-running campaign to replace the Easter Bunny with the Easter Bilby, a native marsupial, yielded moderate success. Easter Bilbies are a common and unremarked sight in many Australian stores around Easter. The sale of chocolate Easter Bilbies was to fund raise for the "Save the Bilby" campaign. ^[2] As the bilby is a threatened species,^[3] it does not have the same connotations as rabbits, and the Easter Bunny remains considerably more recognized and better-known.

In France and Belgium, the eggs are said to be dropped from the sky by the cloches de Pâques (Easter bells). In Christian tradition, church bells were silenced on Good Friday, out of respect for the death of Christ and rang again on Easter morning to celebrate the resurrection. The church bells, represented as flying bells (with wings), are said to have gone to Rome and flown back on Easter morning, loaded with eggs which they drop on their way back.

Now you know.

Because my inner child would have pitched a fit otherwise....

We colored Easter eggs tonight. We're married. We don't have any children. But we colored eggs.

This was all made possible by me, because I refuse to believe that we're too old for that kind of thing. I have a tendency to do that, hold tight to childhood traditions. If I had absolutely no restraint, I'd be forcing Caleb to hide half the eggs in the morning so that I could go find them. I'd of course reciprocate because I'm just that nice.

But I won't. And we'll all just pretend like I didn't admit to that.

I probably shouldn't admit how excited I was that the egg dying kit I bought had 10 different colors. TEN WHOLE COLORS. You know, in my day we only had five colors - red, green, blue, yellow, and purple. We didn't have these new-fangled colors like teal, or brown, or strawberry. No suh.

That squatty one is brown. And the silty pink one on the right didn't work so well.

See that? BROWN. STRAWBERRY.

After a bit, I decided I needed to share the love. So I made one for the Easter Bunny. Because he works hard.

This is a swirly heart. For.........the tub. Because I love the tub.

And this one is.......the Italian flag (albeit backwards....). Because I love Italy.

And this one is for my homies in San Francisco. Because...well...just cause.

Caleb indulging me...on condition that he be able to catch up on the shows he's missed this week.

Lemon Trees

I've done some stupid things in my life. I'll admit it. I think if you ask my Dad though (and Caleb, he wasn't too happy about it either...) one instance stands out a little more than the others.

I'd only been in Australia for three or four days when Sunday came around. I was really looking forward to going to church, in part because I was alone. I craved a bit of kinship. I found the address on the Internet and printed off a nice little bus map for myself.

"I can do this!" I told myself, trying hard not to think about the fact that I was indeed in an entirely different country. Had only been for mere hours. Had no idea where anything was. This was going to be a piece of cake.

I got up at 6 am to get ready and get to the bus. I was going to get there EARLY even. It was going to be great. I pulled out the map I'd printed off in the university's computer lab and headed down the street, looking for the 237 bus stop. I continued walking. Walked some more. I'll walk just to that street there, I'd tell myself, that has to be it. After a good 20 minutes though, I finally pulled myself out of my thick denial and realized that if I wanted to get to church I was going to have to walk the entire way. It couldn't be that far right?

Did I mention I was wearing boots? Tall black ones. I distinctly remember wearing tall black boots.

So I assessed the situation, I mean, I had a map, right? I could get there. So what if the map cut off that road a little...the road the church was on....

It took me an hour and a half before I decided that yes, I was lost. Lost in Australia. I'd seen some lovely neighborhoods though, there was that. Most of the homes were built up, with the garage as their first level. Many of the garages were detached but hollowed out of the hill it was on, like a cave. I liked that. I had also seen my first lemon tree, my first orange tree. They were just growing there on someones front lawn just bursting with gorgeous fruit. Like that was totally normal. And I liked that too. I'd seen a woman selling roses on the sidewalk. She had a lovely amber broach pinned to her crocheted blouse.

I decided that I wanted a lemon tree in my front yard when I grew up. I'd make homemade lemonade and my girls, with their curls, would sell it on the sidewalk in front of our house.

But back to the stupid stuff, right?

So it's been an hour and a half and I've officially walked off my map. No more map. And I'd just walked three blocks to find myself in a cul-de-sac. As I turned around to head back, more than a little dejected, with a tiny bit of fear, I noticed a car slowing down....in fact...I'd seen that car earlier. About a half an hour earlier. The car stopped and a mop of black hair popped out the window. "Hey Sheila!* You look lost, you need a ride?"

Now, I know the right answer here, I went to the Stranger Danger assembly in elementary. Never talk to strangers. Never take candy from strangers. Never get in cars with strangers. Strangely though, I found myself walking towards his car. I walked all the way across the street thinking this would be okay. I stopped just shy of his window and told him the street I was looking for, he said he knew where it was and would take me there. I closed my eyes, said a silent prayer, and walked to the other side and got in.

I got in the car of a stranger. This didn't exactly occur to me until I was IN the car. A little bit late, I know. I tend to leap first, regret later.

He started driving, and I took a minute to size him up. College student, no doubt with all the fast food wrappers littering the car floor. He was in his sweats. He was a little more than hung over. When we turned onto Blaxland road, the road I was looking for, I breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't going to take me somewhere and chop me into bits! Score! I spotted the church and he pulled into the parking lot. Trying not to tempt fate, I immediately went for the door handle before the car even came to a stop. He leaned over though, his cheek jutting out for a kiss. I'd seen this custom acted out a lot since I'd been there, so I obliged him. Anything to get out of the door. Then I turned and had one foot out when he said "No".

Ugh.....................here was the "bits" part then......

I snuck a peek. His eyes were squeezed shut, his lips puckered. He was waiting, ever so patiently, for a kiss. "Um, no, sorry" I said, trying to stifle a laugh, and got out of the car. "Oh come on," he begged, "a little Sunday smooch?" I again told him that no, I would not be kissing him, shut the door and began to walk off. "Hey!" he said, and I turned to see him leaning rather precariously out of the car window, "Maybe next time we'll meet under more romantic circumstances!" I nodded, a little too enthusiastically, and walked out of sight.

So there you have it. And let that be a lesson to you, never get in cars with strangers. They may try to charm you with their beer breath and old grey sweats.

*Sheila is not my name, you may have noticed. Sheila is a catch-all name for any and all females in Australia.

Sonoma

And now, the long-awaited pictures from our weekend in Sonoma. I know, I know, you've all been DYING. Waiting ever so patiently, like an expected phone call from that hot guy in science.

So here they are, a random smattering of our fancy upgraded hotel room* (they had speakers in the bathroom!) and the Cornerstone Gardens (big garden that brings in top landscape architects from all over the world to design their own little plot), where we spent the majority of our day in absolute awe.

*G-rated, fun for the whole family!

Bath & Body Works products in a hotel? You don't say!

Norwegian Trolls in Sonoma? Sure! Why not! (Only my mother would appreciate this)

We ate lunch, and Caleb found his long lost love - Big Red Soda. I thought it tasted like dirt. But that's just me....

I chose peach flavoured apple cider. It was delightful. Pinkies up ladies!

After a nice rest in the sun.... (yes, that's an exhibit...)

We decided to up the ante. We meant business.

Thems were big chairs.

Caleb can juggle.

Ooh! Metal hangy thingies!

Tunnel of shrubs....

Happy 2 years to us!

Baseball Anatomy

It's a dang good thing I have this mutt. He keeps Caleb occupied, fills up our vacuum canister with fur, pukes on the carpet, pukes on his bed (I caught him in time...that's what he gets for horking on my carpet), randomly disperses our garbage throughout the house while we're gone, (sending us on a literal treasure hunt....) and gives us a lesson on what exactly makes up a baseball.

1. Layer 1 - delicious leather covering.

Rest. That was tough.

2. Tiny white string - (Begin unraveling. It's best if you do this in many locations, thereby distributing string evenly throughout the entire apartment.)

3. Bluish-blackish-purpleish string.

Bla bla bla...................yada yada yada....string string string......

4. Thin grey string......

Bla bla bla..................yada yada yada....can no longer see the floor.....

5. Ah. Yes. The Red Rubber Ball.

Look lovingly at Red Rubber Ball. You love Red Rubber Ball.

6. Fortunately for the viewers at home, he ripped into Red Rubber Ball 1.5 seconds after this photo was taken. Next layers? Black Rubber Ball, and Brown Wooden Ball.

Neither lasted long.

This could possibly explain the puke.

Or maybe it was all that air he breathed yesterday.

LOL

I can has cheezburger?

That's all I have to say about that.

Beautiful Things

I have an addiction. There, I've said it. That's the first step right, admitting you have a problem? Well, I do. I am a Flickr addict. Whenever I have a few spare minutes, I inevitably find myself typing in the web URL. My body automatically settles itself, knowing it's in for the long haul. I've literally wasted HOURS of my life exploring the "interesting photos from the last 7 days" portion of this lovely web page, clicking the randomizer button hundreds of times. It's interesting. It's funny. It's inspiring. It makes me feel so introspective (as if I needed any more dialogue running through my brain) and it usually takes a bit before I can pull myself out of it. I love it. I am obsessed. I'd like nothing more than to sit in bed with my lap top all day long. I'd have a job that would allow me to, nah, REQUIRE me to do so. I'd munch on Wasa crackers and carefully portioned tablespoons of peanut butter. I'd be wearing chic, oh-so-soft patterned pajamas, my hair up in a loose chignon, pen in hand and a champagne flute of Simply Orange juice resting on my fabulous found-it-in-a-small-town-art-gallery beside table. And of course, I'd be in a small but stylish apartment in New York City, my window facing a large brick office building. And while I'm at it, my hair would be darker, and my name would be something unusual, unforgettable. Like Azure, or Gaia.

Anyway.

Speaking of beautiful things, I finally caught up on the new Oprah episodes on our DVR. Anyone see the one about her favorite thing now or whatever? I know, I know, normally it's all blah blah blah, crap you can't afford, blah, blah, blah, this face cream will change your life. But this time, it's different. She was talking about a new show on the Discovery Channel called "Planet Earth". It's absolutely exquisite, for lack of a better word. A team of producers have been filming nearly every inch of this planet for the last five years, and have captured events in nature that have never been seen before. They've been able to do so in part because of some fancy new camera that can zoom up to a mile away. The team of people who worked on it were absolutely tireless, some on site in places like Antarctica and Africa for nearly a year. The 11 part mini-series airs on Sunday evenings on the Discovery Channel, and it's well worth the season pass or whatever on your Tivo or DVR. Or if you have to watch TV the old fashioned way, set an alarm. Add it to your To Do list this next week, you've only missed two episodes. It's well worth it.