Don't Move to Seattle

What is up with this funky weather we are having up here in Seattle? Did Nature forget that this is August? August in Seattle is the BEST month! Rather, it is supposed to be the best month. Nothing but glorious blue skies allowing the sun's golden rays to tickle the water of the Puget Sound, Lakes Washington and Union giving the water logged, blinded by incessant gray Seattleites beautiful twinkling blue diamonds to gaze upon as we drive to work, school, the beach. There is not much that I find as stunning as Seattle on a sunny day. On the flip side when the sun is hidden behind a thick swatch of clouds the twinkling blue diamonds turn into lifeless gray bodies of water reflecting the gloom of the gray clouds and gray buildings that flank the waters edge.

Summer in the Northwest is not merely a time for fun in the sun. It is a time that we NEED. When else are we going to get Vitamin D?! When, I ask! We need the sun to sustain us through the long, gray, wet year. October - May and often into June and July SUCK in the Northwest. Sure we will get teasers, a couple of dry days coupled with blue skies in the winter are cold days for sure but they are BLUE days when you can see the foreign seldom seen yellow orb in the sky that people in other parts of the country know as the sun. On these days when the sun is out and it streams its bright, glorious light into your house or car you can feel the warmth and life it is giving. But these days are so rare. So very, very rare.

We usually get a couple of nice days thrown at us at random in the Spring when the sun is out, the clouds are few and fluffy and it gets just warm enough to roll down the windows in the car. I bet the homicide rates on these days drops drastically. Who wants to be all angry and go on a killing spree when the sun is out?

But then the clouds come back and we plunge back into darkness. We go on living. Living in the rain. Living in the cold. Living in the damp, the wet, the rainy, the mildewy weather. We go on living because we know, we know that once late July is here we will see the sun. All of that rain we put up with will keep everything around us, save the grass, green while we enjoy the heat of our incredibly short summer. We live for summer. Summer in the Northwest is like a glimpse into heaven. It gets just hot enough on some days that we are reminded that we do have it good, because even on the really, really hot days you still can't fry an egg on the sidewalk.

There are many a soul who have moved to Seattle after their torrid love affair with the summer. They see the beautiful, sleek Seattle with perky people everywhere. Our summer perk is a natural one; its when the clouds slither back that we turn to our dark, rich, coffee elixir to get us through the days that start dark and end dark.

Word to the wise: if you want to move to Seattle after visiting late July, August or September - DON'T. Come back in November when our basements are flooding and our glorious trees sway in the heavy winds and threaten to topple and take down our houses. Come back in the winter (or fall or spring) and I DARE you to wear light colored pants; you will after all only be walking from your car to the office (or store or mall), what harm could possibly come from that?

Bwa-ha-ha-ha.

It's days like these, usually preceded by a week of rain and gloom, that make Eastern Washington or Arizona look appealing. Until you learn that they have days that get well above 100 degrees. No thanks. I'll just complain about the bad days when they come in our incomprehensibly short summer and pray the sun returns for at least a few days before Autumn arrives.

I usually love the arrival of Autumn. The first rains feel like a great shower, cleaning off all of the grime that has accumulated over the dry summer, the pavement is all shiny and sleek, the grass returns to its green color. The air is fresher. But how can I possibly enjoy the onset of Autumn when its starting in FREAKIN' August? It just not right!

I should go make some cocoa and toast and put on a robe and slippers and admit defeat. The sun will return again next year and I will be right here, water logged and waiting for its glorious rays to fill me to sustain me for another year.

Stinkin' Liberals

The Democratic National Convention kicked off today in Denver. Obama is gearing up to accept the nomination. The impending election is adding electricity to the air. So much so that Ryan has talked politics more in the last month with me than he has in the entire course of our relationship.

I believe there are two reasons he is talking politics with me.

Reason #1: Fear. He is afraid I'm going to vote for John McCain. He doesn't hate McCain, he is just fed up with the war in Iraq, especially now when we are having so many financial troubles at home (and by home I mean in the larger sense of America).

Reason #2: Safety. He feels safe to talk to me about politics now that I've dialed the crazy back a little. I used to be a little on the uh, shall we say, passionate side when it came to politics and if you didn't see things my way, then well, you were just plain wrong. And stupid to boot.

It's amazing how open a person can be when they don't fear being attacked. I wasn't much to fear, though. I can't argue my way out of a wet paper bag. Not with logic and reason anyway. I am, however, great at making sweeping generalizations and making references to "them" and "they" and "studies" and "recent statistics". I am not so great at references, names of publications from said studies and the numbers behind the statistics.

Now if I want to argue a point I stop and try to collect my thought and organize them. Once I realize the thoughts are pretty random and based mostly on emotions I shrug my shoulders and say, "eh".

So, the DNC (aside, am I the only one who thinks of a D&C when you hear DNC?) is under way. Yep. I am a little interested in the events. Brace yourself, Mom. Wendy, Joel, Ike (oh, wait, you live in the stone age and don't have a computer so you will have to get this info in person), anyone else who has known me longer than 7 years.

I think I am going to vote for Barak Obama. Yep. Come November I will fill in the oval next to the Democrats candidate.

Gulp.

Talk about taking a leap.

I don't think my aunts who live in the area have the address to this blog. I think I will not share this bit of information with them since they are a little more passionate about politics than I am - and they have the ability to use reason, logic and facts in an argument! Deadly combination for me.

Ryan and I were talking about McCain and Obama at dinner last night. Neither of us think McCain is bad. We do think he is really, really old and that he will continue to push the same agenda in Iraq. Both of us are sick of the hemorrhage of funds that are flowing into that region when our dollar is tanking at home and abroad.

Of course, now that I am a mother I think more about the loss of our soldiers. Every day the body count grows and grows. I never understood why my mom didn't want my brothers to join the military until I had Gavin. As much as I appreciate the Armed Forces I think I would be a basket case if Gavin decided to join the military.

Ryan and I are in agreement that McCain would be a better president from a military standpoint but that Obama would be better for domestic issues.

I kind of like the presidential races where there is a candidate that I hate, well, that is such a strong word - a candidate that makes me want to retch when I see his face. That's better. Some politicians make it easy, like making claims that they invented the Internet or that they were under hostile gunfire when visiting Serbia (Croatia?) and later saying she remembered wrong (really? Were you remembering the other time you were under gunfire?).

There you have it folks. This is big news. Big. After 7 years of living in Seattle "they" finally got to me. I'm one of "them" now. I am in favor of big government taxing us all into poverty so we can all share a little rather than some have a lot. (Just kidding - that is for the benefit of my brother).

Scofflaw

Cue Western high noon show down music: April just entered the room. And repeat music.

There is a stretch on the West Seattle Bridge where everyone speeds; the stretch where everyone speeds spans the entire length of the bridge. The speed limit on the narrow portion that is two lanes in either direction separated by a tiny 18" barrier is 35 but once it widens to 3 and 4 lanes in each direction the speed limit goes up to 45.

Those are the post speed limits but if you do not drive at least 10 mph over the speed limit you can plan on creating an angry wake of tailgaters. I've caught myself many a time zipping along at 50 mph, going with the flow of traffic, in the 35 mph stretch. When I catch myself going that fast I take it down to 43 or 44. I am one of those people who actually believe that a cop will be less likely to pull you over if your speed is not in excess of 10 mph over the limit.

You never see people get pulled over on the eastbound side of the bridge but the cops often set up clever speed traps on the westbound side - they must love it - it's like shooting fish in a barrel. The motorcycle patrol comes out in full force, there have to be at least 4 or 5 cops working the westbound side. A couple of cops parks their bikes at the top of on ramp of a permanently closed ramp and point their radar guns at the cars speeding by then take off after the speeder. The cars pull over in one little area if they are able to, if not they take the next exit. The cop, after writing a ticket, drives east a couple of blocks on the street below the bridge and gets back on at the closed ramp. He just does circles really. Up the ramp, nab a speeder, down the ramp, write a ticket, back up the ramp and round and round he goes.

So today I am driving to West Seattle as I was taking some stuff to a friends house. I was being a particularly well behaved citizen as I was only going 5 miles over the speed limit. Maybe that doesn't make me good so much as it makes me less bad. At any rate, I was inching along the narrow portion of the bridge at a leisurely pace of 40 miles per hour. This infuriated the woman driving a truck behind me. To add to her frustration (and eventually my glee) was that she couldn't pass me because there was someone else next to me who was also feeling like a good citizen and was only breaking the law by 5 mph as well.

Sometimes I feel for the person and will make an attempt to get out of their way. Today was not such a day. The woman's scowl, the way she was hunched up over the steering wheel and lets not forget the most important reason she stayed behind me was that she was on my tail. I said, "Oh, you want me to slow down even more do ya?" as if she could hear me. But I don't like it to make it really obvious I'm slowing down just to get under her skin so I just eased up on the gas a bit. Take that, angry lady! Besides, the lanes were going to open up and she could very easily pass me.

Which she did. She took her first opportunity and jumped out ahead of me and slowed down! Well! I didn't think I was that obnoxious. I only slowed down a mile or two an hour, technically, I was still speeding. If I had wanted to be super annoying I would have slowed down to the post speed limit.

As I was thinking grumpy thoughts about this woman who was in such a hurry to get around me because I wasn't breaking the law by great enough of a margin I saw the dreaded motorcycle cop.

They changed up their routine! There was only one and he was at the gore of the last exit before the bridge turned into 35th Avenue at the top of the hill. (Gore, not just a former vice president, inventor of the Internet and Nobel Peace Prize winner, a gore is the name of the painted triangular space between on/off ramps and the lanes of the highway. Yes, I am married to a transportation engineer, and yes, I am a geek). So... there was Mr. Officer on his hog with his radar gun. He pointed it at Ms. Angry Tailgater then, after checking the speed, he put me in its sights! It was too late! I hit the brakes and said, "Ah! But I was going so slow and she was tailgating me!" out loud, as if he could hear me. As if he would care even if he could hear me.

The officers next action is one that strikes fear in the hearts of drivers across the nation. He checked the speed then put the gun away and pulled out into traffic! I was the last one he pointed it at! He was coming after me! Me! I was only a mild breaker of the law! Doesn't he know it's all relative? Why me? Why?

There I am, now going the speed limit and thinking about what I'm going to do when he catches up to me and pulls me over. I peek in the rear view mirror and see him way, way back there and I saw a brief flash of blue and white lights. It was then that I realized how far behind me he was and that he never gestured at me and that we were approaching a pretty big turn before we hit 35th. With several cars between me and the cop I prayed for a green light when we hit 35th so he wouldn't have a chance to catch up to me and find me, if I was his intended target, that is.

The sun was shining on me because the light stayed green and nary a cop with flashing lights to be found I made a very sharp turn that took me immediately into a residential neighborhood and away from the flow on the majority of the traffic.

No ticket for me today.

When I told Ryan this story he asked me, "So, you out ran a cop?"

Let me be clear: I did not out run a cop. I only think that he was going to pull me over. He did not give me any indication that he wanted me to pull over; sure I never gave him a chance to give me a sign but whose fault is that? Really. I know I watch a lot of Law & Order and CSI (just the original, thank you very much) but I don't think I outfoxed the cop. He probably was after someone else.

OR... I became his white whale today! The one that got away. He is Captain Ahab and I'm Moby. Or he's the traffic cop and I'm Newman from Seinfeld. You know, neither analogy is all that flattering to me so I'm just going to stop.

Silly Happiness

If you read my previous post, "Silly Sadness" then you probably have an inkling as to where this post is going.

It was with zero expectations that I went to pick up my beautiful, well fitting, twice worn, aqua blue, button up blouse from the cleaners on Thursday. I was not expecting them to get the chocolate stain out of the fabric since I had already washed it three times with two different stain removers. Over and over on the long walk down Beacon Avenue I told myself that the stain would still be there, that there was no way they could get it out.

Gavin and I strolled up to the corner gas station turned dry cleaners and hoisted Gavin's deluxe ride onto the tall sidewalk that surrounded the building, clearly built before anyone considered the physically disabled, and shoved our way through the narrow door and oh-so gently rang the bell for service when it was obvious they didn't hear the bells jingle when I opened the door.

The owner came up to assist me. He took my ticket and returned with my beautiful, well fitting, twice worn, aqua blue, button up blouse from the spinning rack. "Ah," he said, remembering me, the sad lady with the beautiful, well fitting, twice worn, aqua blue, button up blouse, "the chocolate stain. You washed. Tsk, tsk, tsk. The water set the stain." He then proceeded to show me the stain, just as it was when I entrusted my garment to him on Saturday afternoon.
I wasn't upset since they were upfront and told me they probably would not be able to get the stain out.

So why am I so happy? I'm glad you asked!

Oxo Brite (Trader Joe's version of Oxi Bright, I assume) is why. Just last week I was able to restore some of Gavin's clothes that were left at the bottom of the hamper for a week with food on them that ended up growing mildew (gross). I washed them with bleach but the mildew persisted. I soaked them in an obscene amount of Oxo Brite over night and wa-la! Bye bye mildew! The container of Oxo Brite says to start with a small amount and soak for an hour and slowly add more product until the stain comes out but instead of soaking the garments in one scoop, then two scoops, then three scoops, then four scoops I just skipped ahead to the last step and soaked them in five scoops for 8 hours or so.

Yesterday I put my beautiful, well fitting, twice worn, aqua blue, button up blouse in a bucket of warm water that had at least 4 scoops of Oxo Brite. The water turned aqua, as did two white onsies that I had soaking in there as well, with just a hint of chocolate. OK, you couldn't see the chocolate in the water but it had to be there because it wasn't on my beautiful, well fitting, twice worn, aqua blue, button up blouse!

It is in the wash right now and I hope that it fits just as well as it did before since I had to soak the cold water wash only garment in warm water in my last ditch effort to get the chocolate out.

We'll see.

Photographs from the 'Couv and Beyond!

Here are some pictures from our visit to Vancouver from last week (and one in Olympia and some from home). The first batch of pictures were taken in downtown Vancouver at Esther Shore Park. The second set are at my mom & dad's house, the swimming set are from a picnic in downtown Camas - the part that remains free of chain restaurants and strip malls and McMansions.

Gavin crawling in the 'river bed' at Esther Shore Park in downtown Vancouver

He's cute from any angle! Look at that adorable noggin!

Gavin and his cousin Laura whose birthday is today! Happy 10th B-day, Laura!

Gavin getting a steadying hand from his beloved mommy

Nephew Matthew looks just like his dad, my brother, Ike.

The G exploring the pebble river bed

Nana Jo holding wet Baby Gavin. Now that's love.

Hot and all tuckered out after a fun picnic at Esther Shore Park with Nana Jo, Aunt Jenny and cousins Laura and Matthew.

These grapes are yummy!

Laura giving younger brother Matthew her older sisterly look of scorn.

Sleeping in his Pack 'N Play like the angel he is.

Sampling a toy

Matthew swimming in the Camas Pool

Gavin hanging out in the baby wading pool in Camas

Brother Ike and his daughter, Laura

Mmm, green toy

Grandpa Bob holding a very cranky Gavin while Grandma Martha preps for another shot (the next shot didn't turn out as well as this one).

Lesson I learned from this picture: take the picture when you arrive, not when you are trying to scram because baby is melting down.

Quite the contrast to the above picture, eh? Doesn't he look like a young Indiana Jones? So dashing!

Nakedness

There is a woman at the club who baffles me. She doesn't close the curtain on the shower when she's washing up after her workout. The shower stalls are all quite large and all are equipped with shower curtains. I don't know why she doesn't close the curtain. I'm guessing it is because she doesn't care if everyone sees her naked and shaving her legs.

Part of me doesn't understand why I care. It is a locker room; naked women abound. We undress and walk to the shower naked but once at the shower we step inside and promptly close the curtain. Some of us will make a quick stop at the scale on our way to the shower to get the most accurate and favorable weight measurement - naked and in a semi dehydrated state after sweating in a workout. We NEVER weigh ourselves after the shower because well, duh, wet hair is heavy.

I'm not puritanical in my views of nudity. If someone wants to go to a nude beach I could care less. If that same person wants to parade around their home naked, more power to 'em (although I would not like to sit on their couch as a guest in their home). If a woman wants to breastfeed in public I don't care - heck, I've done my fair share of breastfeeding outside of my home. I know breastfeeding is not the same as nudity but some people out there get really worked up if they see a baby attached to a bare breast. I'm not of the group that thinks seeing a woman breastfeed is like seeing the face of God but I'm also not of the group that would say, "Sure, it's a natural process but so is defecating." Ryan was really uncomfortable when I was breastfeeding Gavin on an airplane without using my cover. He kept asking me if I wanted my cover. Finally I told him if he wanted me to us it then I would. It took him all of 2 seconds to fish the cover out of the back pack that was shoved under the seat.

If someone saw me feeding Gavin and caught a glimpse of me way over by the window while they were looking for their seat where's the harm in that? I am pretty discreet when feeding him. I see lots of women at church feed their babies, one woman went sans the cover. Brave. I'm not quite there to do it without a cover in church because I guess I'm a hypocrite. Why do it on an airplane but not in church, the house of the One who made the boob?

Several years ago I went to the Olympus Day Spa in Lakewood (down by Tacoma) with several girlfriends for a day of pampering in the women's only spa. There was a large room filled with soaking tubs and saunas and an area for massages - all clothing was prohibited. We stripped down, took showers then went from tub to tub that had various herbs, and potions and whatever in them and each one was a different temperature. It was a little uncomfortable at first but after a while the woman who weighed at least 300 pounds didn't seem so misshapen and the skinny girls didn't seem so stick like. We all became human and our flesh was there merely to house our souls.

About 6 months after Ryan and I were married we went to Vegas right after the New Year for a long weekend. Since we aren't big gamblers (read: penny pinchers who can't bear the thought of throwing away money) we saw tons of shows (one could argue that we threw money away on shows, too). We stayed at the Venetian and walked everyday down to the other end of the strip and spent most of our time at the Tropicana because they had the best players club deals that we could find. After getting our players club cards we gambled for 2 hours. Boy, are we ever high rollers. I took my $20 that I set aside for gambling, I think Ryan's mom gave us each some cash as a Christmas present for gambling in Vegas, and went to the penny slots. That was fun. I really turned up the heat when I went to the nickel slots and won $60 on a nickel at the Yahtzee game. When I got a Yahtzee! the dice the came rolling out the cup on the screen stood up and started dancing; those dancing dice were so darn cute!

Our objective for the two hours was to rack up points for 'free' entertainment from the Tropicana, 'free' t-shirts (both of which we still wear - at the gym, while painting and doing yard work), 'free' cards and of course, 'free' food. As I played with the pennies in my bucket and enjoyed ordering 'free' drinks from the cocktail waitresse my fingers turned black. Ryan's fingers stayed pristine white because he preferred to stick a bill in the machine then just push buttons. Your pennies last a lot longer when you have to put each one into the machine.

This story does get back to nudity, don't you worry.

Of the shows we 'won' for 'free' one was a burlesque/french review show. I was adamant about going to the 7 pm family friendly show but it interfered with another show, I think the medieval jousting dinner theater we already had planned, so I finally relented and we signed up for the 10 pm adults only show.

Boy, did we ever get more than we bargained for. We were seated front and center of the stage. And I mean front and center. I was butted up against the stage at our table and Ryan was right next to me. We had to crane our necks to the see the show. Of course it was a little weird at first seeing all of these women dancing around topless. After a few minutes it was even weirder because the women dancing around topless could have been men for all we noticed their breasts. After the show Ryan said to me, "I'm not just saying this to make you happy but didn't they seem like guys after a while?" Too bad he couldn't have enjoyed the show more than he did. OK, not really. I was pretty happy the dancers turned into asexual beings after just a few moments. It turned out to be one of my favorite shows.

I feel like I should not be bothered by the woman at the gym seeing as how I enjoyed the French review show, breastfeed in public, and went to a women's only clothing forbidden day spa. Maybe the woman's inability to close the shower curtain doesn't bother me. Maybe I just find it curious that she doesn't care what other people think about her.

Or... she thinks she all that and wants everyone to see. Too bad for her there aren't co-ed locker rooms. I wonder if she would close the curtain then?

Wanna Feel Old? Read This Post

This is a list complied annually by Beloit College to help professors understand their incoming Freshman class; it also helps the students understand that their short time on planet earth has not been the same since time began (you know, way back in the 80's).

Beloit College Mindset List
A snapshot of the world view of the Class of 2012

1. Harry Potter could be a classmate, playing on their Quidditch team.
2. Since they were in diapers, karaoke machines have been annoying people at parties.
3. They have always been looking for Carmen Sandiego.
4. GPS satellite navigation systems have always been available.
5. Coke and Pepsi have always used recycled plastic bottles.
6. Shampoo and conditioner have always been available in the same bottle.
7. Gas stations have never fixed flats, but most serve cappuccino.
8. Their parents may have dropped them in shock when they heard George Bush announce "tax revenue increases."
9. Electronic filing of tax returns has always been an option.
10. Girls in head scarves have always been part of the school fashion scene.
11. All have had a relative — or known about a friend's relative - who died comfortably at home with hospice.
12. As a precursor to "whatever," they have recognized that some people "just don't get it."
13. Universal Studios has always offered an alternative to Mickey in Orlando.
14. Grandma has always had wheels on her walker.
15. Martha Stewart Living has always been setting the style.
16. Haagen-Dazs ice cream has always come in quarts.
17. Club Med resorts have always been places to take the whole family.
18. WWW has never stood for World Wide Wrestling.
19. Films have never been X rated, only NC-17.
20. The Warsaw Pact is as hazy for them as the League of Nations was for their parents.
21. Students have always been "Rocking the Vote."
22. Clarence Thomas has always sat on the Supreme Court.
23. Schools have always been concerned about multiculturalism.
24. We have always known that "All I Ever Really Needed to Know I Learned in Kindergarten."
25. There have always been gay rabbis.
26. Wayne Newton has never had a mustache.
27. College grads have always been able to Teach for America.
28. IBM has never made typewriters.
29. Roseanne Barr has never been invited to sing the National Anthem again.
30. McDonald's and Burger King have always used vegetable oil for cooking french fries.
31. They have never been able to color a tree using a raw umber Crayola.
32. There has always been Pearl Jam.
33. The Tonight Show has always been hosted by Jay Leno and started at 11:35 EST.
34. Pee-Wee has never been in his playhouse during the day.
35. They never tasted Benefit Cereal with psyllium.
36. They may have been given a Nintendo Game Boy to play with in the crib.
37. Authorities have always been building a wall across the Mexican border.
38. Lenin's name has never been on a major city in Russia.
39. Employers have always been able to do credit checks on employees.
40. Balsamic vinegar has always been available in the U.S.
41. Macaulay Culkin has always been "Home Alone."
42. Their parents may have watched "The American Gladiators" on TV the day they were born.
43. Personal privacy has always been threatened.
44. Caller ID has always been available on phones.
45. Living wills have always been asked for at hospital check-ins.
46. The Green Bay Packers (almost) always had the same starting quarterback.
47. They never heard an attendant ask "Want me to check under the hood?"
48. Iced tea has always come in cans and bottles.
49. Soft drink refills have always been free.
50. They have never known life without Seinfeld references from a show about "nothing."
51. The Windows 3.0 operating system made IBM PCs user-friendly the year they were born.
52. Moscow residents have always been able to buy Big Macs.
53. The Royal New Zealand Navy has never been permitted a daily ration of rum.
54. The Hubble Space Telescope has always been eavesdropping on the heavens.
55. 98.6 F or otherwise has always been confirmed in the ear.
56. Michael Milken has always been a philanthropist promoting prostate cancer research.
57. Offshore oil drilling in the United States has always been prohibited.
58. Radio stations have never been required to present both sides of public issues.
59. There have always been charter schools.
60. Students always had Goosebumps.Source: The Associated Press

Updated: 6:13 p.m. ET Aug. 18, 2008© 2008 MSNBC.com
URL: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/26271355/?GT1=43001

I like #32: I don't want to imagine a life without Pearl Jam. C'mon.

I wonder what the list is going to include when Gavin is a college Freshman in 2025 (quick math check: born 2007 + 6 years = 2013 kindergarten debut; 2013 + 12 = 2025). I also wonder what year 'car windows have never rolled down with the use of a handle and manual labor' will make the list.

There is a lot more that I wonder. If you don't believe me just ask Ryan he always hears me ask, "Do you ever wonder...." his reply is ALWAYS (with one exception): no. The one exception was posed while watching Queer Eye for the Straight Guy: Do you wonder if any of the Fab Five dated each other?

I could see the 'n' starting to form on his lips before a funny looked crossed his face and he said, "Yes. Yes, I do wonder." Of course I was over the moon, "You wondered about something!" It was a moment for the history books.

Fortunately my 'do you wonder' questions don't annoy him (too much) because I have a feeling they are going to be nothing compared to the "why?" phase that Gavin will be entering into here before long.

Did #31 shock anyone else? I didn't know raw umber was gone from the crayon box! Sure it was an ugly and color good only for coloring Boston Baked Beans (another gross candy they probably don't know about).

Ears Flapping in the Wind

Ryan took Kea to the Genesse Dog Park yesterday and a man took this picture of the dog. It's such a great photo that I want to share it with the world; or at least those of you who read this.

It was a hot day yesterday, about 93 degrees so although her ears are flapping in the wind she looks a little sluggish. I often think back to her days as a puppy when she would not lay down and just chill unless we put her in her doggy den at night to sleep FOR EIGHT MONTHS! This is no exaggeration. We had to barricade the living room to keep her contained, barricade the railing on one side of the living room where the stairs were to keep her from chewing on them and we had to put her in her kennel every time we had to get up to go to the bathroom or cook in the kitchen or just leave her alone for more than 30 seconds otherwise she would attack her bed, the couch or recliner.

All of that insanity ended in one day. One. It was the day she was spayed. I took her in the morning to the animal clinic and picked her up that evening where the staff told me they encountered a first with her. She was the first dog that ever managed to pull the newspaper on the bottom of the kennel up through the floor and shred it to bits. I didn't know whether I should feel proud that I had an obnoxious, overly energetic dog or embarrassed.

The nurse who brought her out said she had a remarkable amount of energy for just having had surgery. I almost cried when I saw my little puppy - she was walking very slowly and was listing a bit but when she saw me you could see her make an effort to wag her tail. It was so precious.

When we got home I laid Kea down on her dog bed and she stayed! She curled up in a ball and stayed! It was the first time she would stay on her bed and it was the first time she did not attack her bed! That was a real turning point in our life with a dog. No more constant dog watching.

Dr. Pamparo, her vet, one time noted, "Wow. She has a lot of energy." The vet who sees dogs all day long, 5 days a week, year in and year out said she had a lot of energy. Sheesh. The thing that really gets us is that the Kea we met at the kennel when she was 4 weeks old is not the Kea that we took home. Technically she is the same dog but her personality (or dogality) did a 180. Her litter mates barked and whined and licked us and pawed us and were overall very affectionate and friendly. Kea? Not so much. It took 10 or so minutes for her to even come over to us. The dog books warned us to not select the shy dog but she was the cutest of all the girl pups because she had the ginger coloring whereas the others were milky white. It took me a week or two to decide which dog I wanted, the friendly milky white one or the too cute shy ginger colored dog.

On our way home from Granite Falls (Timbuktu, Washington) we made her a snugly bed in her kennel in the backseat of the truck (oh how I miss that gas guzzling beast of a machine) - wait, we drove the Civic. I don't miss that car. It was nice enough but whatever... Kea whined the whole way home. In hindsight I should have held her in my lap; I don't know what I was thinking. Maybe I went into doggy mommy mode and I knew she would be safest in the kennel in the event of an accident.

She's such a sweet dog and I'm glad I picked the shy dog who turned out to be the worlds most outgoing dog and has the best doggy happy happy joy joy dance ever (that's my friend Krissy says, anyway).

Silly Sadness

Shopping for clothes is not among my favored activities. If I set out looking for a specific item, whether it be a pencil skirt, an A-line skirt, a pair of jeans, a button up blouse, a knit top - it doesn't matter because I won't be able to find it. Or I will be able to find it but it will be outrageously expensive and I don't do outrageously expensive.

On Wednesday afternoon I was returning from Vancouver and was due to visit my grandparents and aunt in Olympia and since I was going to be much earlier than our agreed upon time and since I was passing through Centralia I stopped to see what the outlets had to offer me.

It is with a bit of reservation that I even put in writing for others to read the name of the first (and only) store I went in and once I do you will know why: Dress Barn. Really? Why didn't they up the ante and put cow or pig in their name? It has just as much appeal as naming your clothing store after a place where fat, stinky animals are housed.

My first Dress Barn encounter occured last winter when I needed a dress to wear to Ryan's company picnic and I didn't feel like hauling myself and Gavin all the way down to Southcenter but all the way down to West Seattle's Westwood Village instead. There I had three stores to choose from:

Target and their crappy clothes that fall apart, are ill made and shrink even after being washed according to the instruction label,

Chico and their slightly more mature sensibility and hefty price tag or

Dress Barn and their surprisingly cute clothes and itty bitty price tags won. Hands down.

As I walked into the store on Wednesday I couldn't remember if they only sold dresses as their name would imply. But, unlike the implications of the store's name, the dresses that I recalled from December of last year did not consist of cow prints, mumus and barn red dresses so I figured it would be worth a looksie to see if they carried more than dresses.

It was my lucky day! Not only did they have oodles and oodles of blouses, shorts, capris, skirts and dresses they were also all on sale! Woo-hoo! I wandered from sales rack to sales rack and found about 12 blouses. Of those 12 I whittled the collection down to 6 I liked and finally down to 4 that I loved. Of the four there was one that I loved best. It was a beautiful, vibrant blue, almost an aqua in color; it buttoned up and had a belt just below the bust. Everything about it was right. There was no blousing (where there is a gap between the buttons) thanks to the little sewn on belt, the length was perfect and the color complemented my skin beautifully.

So happy was I that I ripped the tag off and wore it out of the store (after paying for it of course). OK, so I also had a huge milk spot on my shirt that I noticed as I was wandering around the store (and it wasn't cows milk...). I bought 4 shirts for less than $40, including tax. 4 shirts that I really, really like. There was no settling.

I wore the shirt when I saw my grandparents and when I got home I showed it off to Ryan then put my pajamas on so not as to soil my perfect new blouse. I wore it again the next evening when I met up with my girlfriends at Chocolati for our bible study. I love me some chocolate, especially chocolati chocolate. But, alas, chocolate was my undoing that night.

I happily sipped on my cold, blended chocolate drink. That's not true - I slurped my drink in a chocolate craving frenzy. As Heather was talking I heard Heidi say, "Oh, no. You have chocolate on your shirt." When I looked at Heidi and saw that she was looking at me I followed her gaze and looked down and sure enough there was chocolate on me. "Of course I do! I just bought it," was my angry response. Fuming, I blotted the chocolate and Krissy said she normally carries a Tide to Go stick with her but not tonight.

It has been treated with 2 different stain removers 3 times and laundered 3 times. Nothing. The stain faded a bit but a chocolate stain stands out on an aqua color. After searching chocolate stain removal methods one bit of helpful advice I found was seemingly obvious: don't waste your time, go to a dry cleaner. Duh. I called several and my heart sank with each conversation as they all said, "Ooh, chocolate? I can try but can't promise anything." I took it to Beacon Hill Cleaners and as I was describing the stain I told the owner that I washed it three times but had not dried it. He said the water probably set the stain but that he would try his best to get the stain out.

Why couldn't it have been any other shirt? It is nearly IMPOSSIBLE to find a button up shirt that fits me well because of my, um, build. My stupid "build" makes a well fitting shirt so difficult to find because it won't fit around my shoulders and around the bust. Lame. When I do find a button up that fits in the shoulders and in the bust what do I do after wearing it on two brief occasions? Stain it!!!

I suppose I could try to find the same shirt at the Westwood Village Dress Barn. I bet they will have it in stock but only in size small OR in my size but only in pastels which look absolutely horrid on me.

If the stain doesn't come out I will try one more method of stain removal that I found on-line that involves vinegar, liquid detergent and soaking and blotting and drying and washing. If that doesn't work I'll cry and mourn the beautiful shirt and reminisce the two glorious times we had together. Then I'll dye it black and hope that it turns out OK.

That concludes my silly story of sadness. If that is the worst thing that happens to me this summer then I am really blessed.

6 years, 8 hours and counting

Ryan and I had our 6th wedding anniversary yesterday. 6 years! Time has a way of sneaking up on you. We've been together 7 1/2 years, longer than all time spent in Jr. High and High School. I seem to remember Jr. High and High School lasting for an eternity. Well, High School started slow and sped up each year and Senior year flew by. It seems that Jr. High lasted longer than all of elementary and High school combined.

Enough about Jr. High; I'm going to give myself nightmares.

To celebrate our 6 years of wedded bliss we went to brunch at Salty's instead of going out to our usual dinner at some fancy pants restaurant. In years past we've gone to Palisade, the Space Needle restaurant Sky High (or something like that) and my all time favorite: El Gaucho. Their salmon is flown in from some river in Alaska and it blows Copper River Salmon out of the water. No contest. It was so delicious I could have cried from its tasty gloriousness.

Salty's puts on one mean brunch. I had been looking forward to this brunch for weeks. When we finally arrived on yesterday morning I didn't know where to start. There was so much to choose from. Omelet? Crab legs? Pasta station? Bread? (Ha! Bread! As if! You think I'm going to waste precious room with bread? Amateur).

While Ryan and I feasted Gavin wolfed down cheerios. I'm loving this whole oblivious stage. Oblivious to the stellar food just beyond his reach and perfectly content with wheat cereal and diluted apple juice in a sippy cup. When he realizes he's not eating the good stuff we will have no choice but to stop eating at nice restaurants with him. Yep. We hardly feel comfortable spending an obscene amount of money on us on our anniversary but to shovel pricey food into the same mouth that can appreciate the subtle taste differences between a leather shoe and foam flip flop is just wrong.

That evening Gavin went to a babysitters house (Ryan's former co-worker who practically begged us for the privilege of watching Gavin) and we went to see the new Indiana Jones movie. I never told Ryan how much I spent when I went to the movie theater last month so it was fun to see him get all worked up over the cost to see a movie. We haven't been to see a movie together in two years. It cost over $40 so see a movie. $20 for tickets, $11 for a medium drink, medium popcorn and bag of candy, $13 for parking. Outrageous.

Also outrageous: the new Indiana Jones movie.

It was enjoyable but so, so very far out there. Way far. Even for Indiana Jones. I kind of wish I had watched the previous movies so I could have kept up with all of the references they made to the other adventures Indy and pals made.

All in all it was a good anniversary. We had some time to spend together as a family and got a little time to ourselves at the theater and at the Cheesecake Factory afterwards & we stayed out until 10:30! It's like we weren't over 30 or parents it was so late!

Happy 6 years to me and Ryan!

Blending Bliss

We bought a new blender/food processor at Costco yesterday. It was kind of an impulse buy; impulsive for us, anyway. Normally for an appliance we do a little research to make sure it has good reviews but it was just sitting there on the shelf calling out to me. It said, "Psst! April! I won't leak blended food on your counter. I won't stain your counter with sticky strawberry juice when you make margaritas. I'm shiny. I'm new. You can trust me. Besides, I am also a food processor. You know you want one. You know you need one. Buy me."

It seems odd to be replacing appliances since we got most of them when we got married. The blender was a gift to me from my mom the year before I got married. She won it at a church picnic and gave it to me instead of my little brother who also wanted it. I told him it was because she loved me more although I think the real reason is that he was in town visiting from Oklahoma and it would be difficult for him to stuff the blender in his luggage when she was probably hoping he would make room in his luggage for stuff that he left in his old bedroom several years earlier when he moved to Tulsa in the first place. But what is a big sister for if not to make you question your parents love for you? Ha. I love you little bro.

Ryan made smoothies using the bucket of blueberries that he bought at Costco. I was finally able to make a recipe for hummus that I've been wanting to make for a couple of weeks now. Roasted Red Pepper Hummus. Sounds delicious, right? Wrong. It was so very, very gross. It wasn't the red pepper that made it so gross it was the tahini (sesame seed paste). I like sesame, I like sesame candy, I like halva (a sesame puree type of dessert), I just did not like it with chickpeas. I only have one more hummus recipe to try. If that one bombs then I at least liked the first one.

When Gavin wakes from his nap we are going to do some more shopping. This time we are replacing all of our plastic food storage containers. They all probably have that awful BPA in it and when you wash them in the dishwasher it heats up the plastic and spews that nasty stuff over all of the other dishes. The latest news about the BPA is that it is linked to early puberty. Great. I thought about buying BPA free plastic but it will probably only be a matter of time before they find the new harmful substance in plastic. Besides, its made from a fossil fuel to begin with so I guess its time to go back to glass even though they will have plastic lids - I'll just wash those by hand. I also am on the look out for a stainless steel sippy cup. I know they exist because I heard a mommy friend talking about her daughter throwing her stainless steel sippy cup in the car. Yipes!