Another update . . . at long last!

**I have been seriously remiss in keeping up this blog! This is a post I started in November but just got around to finishing. What makes it even funnier is that I was behind with my entries when I initially wrote it :) **

Well, everyone, it's been over 2 months since my last post. Since then, we have experienced (and are currently experiencing) some significant changes. The most important of these changes is that Michael and I both now have jobs. Most of you already know about this, but many of you probably don't know exactly what we are doing.
My job is working as a customer service rep for a company that is contracted with TriMet. TriMet, in turn, is contracted with the State of Oregon to provide medical transportation to people who carry either Medicaid insurance or a certain type of the Oregon Health Plan. It has been both challenging and deeply gratifying work--challenging in that I never know who is going to be on the other end of the line when I answer a call (and in what type of temperament they are in!), gratifying because I feel like I am truly helping people who need our service--and who often need extra patience and a willingness on my part to go the extra mile to help them. The job started out as a part-time postition, but a full-time position quickly became available, so I now work 9 hour days, Mon-Thurs, and 5 1/2 hours on Saturday with Fridays and Sundays off. I'm hoping that within a month or two I will be able to change my shift around a little in order to have Saturdays off, so that Michael and I will be able to have 2 days off in a row together--something that hasn't happened in years, since working as a massage therapist almost always means working weekends.

Michael's new job is with a company called Corbin Engineering. I am quite proud of the fact that the owners of the company came looking for him to offer him a position, instead of the other way around. :) One of the owners had worked with Michael a few years ago and knows the quality of his work. Apparently, he and his business partner knew they would soon need a designer on staff (now that businesses are beginning to build things again and they would be contracting for projects), and they thought of Michael and wondered if he was working again or was still unemployed. They talked it over and decided that they could find enough work to hire him now rather than wait until they are really busy and he is already working for someone else. So that is quite a compliment! He works Mon-Fri and is temporarily stationed at a company that designs chips for cell phones. The owners think that that particular project will last at least through the end of the year. Then, hopefully, there will be more projects in the works for Michael to be involved in.

One of the other big changes in our lives involves a huge landscaping project that Michael has more or less been forced to undertake. A few weeks ago, as he was in the process of running cables for his new pride and joy (his XBOX), he discovered that there is water under our house--and not just a little water. In fact, his guess is that there has always been standing water under our house during the rainy season. This, as homeowners, strikes fear in our hearts because where there is standing water, there is bound to be the potential for problems with dry rot and mold. So, Michael, brave soul that he is, has made considerable progress on preparing our back and side yards for installation of a "French drain." What this involves is basically digging a trench that runs along one side of the house, turns and goes under our deck (after many planks of the deck itself have been pulled up) and ends at the fence line at the other side of the house. What makes it even more backbreaking work is that our soil isn't really soil, but mostly clay. Add to that the gigantic rock that Michael uncovered directly in the path of his trench, and what is already a backbreaking job becomes truly miserable. Our friend John came over to help yesterday and the two boys slogged away, chiseling pieces of rock away with their shovels. This morning, 3 yards of gravel was delivered to our driveway. The gravel will go on top of the pipe in the trench and will act as a filter for all the rain yet to come this year. Michael worked all morning on the drain and was still working when I left to go to work at 1:30pm. All his hard work will pay off though, if it means no more standing water under our house. And once again, I am thankful that he has the knowledge and the skill to tackle these home repair projects.

We had a nice Thanksgiving on Thursday at my parents' home in Vancouver. We brought a mushroom and potato dish (something I could eat every day and not get sick of for at least a month), a fruit salad, and an Indian rice salad flavored with nutmeg and orange rind. We also brought some pear sparkling cider--yum! Mom and Dad provided ham, Mom's red Jell-o salad, and pumpkin pie. Needless to say, we all ate very well! We relaxed in front of the fire for a few hours and I scoped out the ads for the next day's shopping. I think the last time I got up early to go shopping the day after Thanksgiving was when I was in high school . . . mostly because I am SO not an early-riser. But this year, I really wanted to get some of the Amelia's organic cotton socks at Fred Meyer that I had tried earlier in the year and loved and I was willing to brave not only the early morning for them, but also the pushing and shoving that Black Friday is famous for. Michael decided that 5am was too early for his blood, so I braved it myself (but I left in time to arrive there just after the store opened, so I wouldn't have to wait outside) and was pleasantly surprised to find that people were generally very polite and conscious of the personal spaces of others. I got my socks, and a package for Michael, then decided to wander around and see what else might be on sale. I can definitely see how someone with a compulsive spending disorder could go hog wild crazy on Black Friday--there were 1/2 off signs everywhere I looked! I kept myself under control, however and even managed to bypass my biggest temptation: the 1/2 price boxes of Christmas lights. Although we have lights for our tree, we've never had them for the outside of our house and I've always admired the simple beauty of the white lights outlining other people's houses. But since we only recently got jobs again, I just couldn't bring myself to make the extra purchase. Maybe next year . . .

A Recap of Our Lives

I have been neglecting this blog lately (again!), and I guess I will have to blame Mafia Wars for most of it. Michael and I have both been playing this silly game on Facebook far too much--well, I think I have been playing it far too much. It's been keeping Michael occupied and providing him with some much-needed entertainment. :) When I do finally go back to work, Michael will probably take over for me and keep my mafia in tip-top fighting shape--something he does better anyway.

Some fun things have happened in our lives since last I wrote: Michael had his 36th birthday celebration with family and friends at our house, we visited Mt. St. Helens with our friends, John and Amy (and their kids, Connor and Kaiden), AND I got responses from not one, but TWO jobs that I applied for.

We had Michael's party on August 30 (a week after his actual birthday), and our house was full to the brim with people wishing him well. Both sets of our parents came, his sister and her family, and our friends John and Amy and their kids. It doesn't sound like too many, but it made for a full house! We had a potluck-themed birthday, and the spread was unbelievable. My dad made his very famous macaroni salad, Amy brought a bean salad that was incredible, Michael's sister Christy brought a yummy fruit salad and his folks brought the meat for the BBQ: steaks and chicken--and hot dogs for the kids. Michael was SO happy about his steak. He kept ohhhing and ahhhing beside me as he ate it. My contribution was sauteed zucchini and yellow squash (from the farm down the road) and Michael's birthday cake.

I had never made a cake from scratch before and when I asked Michael what kind of cake he wanted for his birthday, he said "white cake with lemon filling." So I did a search on the Internet and found a Martha Stewart cake recipe that looked pretty good. It was complicated (a challenge for sure, requiring an ice water bath, straining lemon curd through a colander, and separating the yolks and whites of 8 eggs), but it was actually really fun. I started the cake at about 11 a.m. on Saturday, and I finished frosting it (with homemade cream cheese frosting, mind you, that called for an ENTIRE bag of powdered sugar!) at about 11 p.m. that night. But let me tell you, I had an extreme sense of accomplishment after finishing that cake. I did a taste test of the lemon curd halfway through and it was surprisingly good (with a name like 'curd,' my hopes weren't too high. It reminded me of Little Miss Muffet's curds and whey . . . and I've never been too fond of lemon either); it was SO good, in fact, that I was wishing there was more lemon curd than the thin little ribbon running between the two layers of cake.

Michael collected some fun birthday cards, a balloon proclaiming him to be a "Rock Star," birthday money and the show-stopping gift of a popcorn popper. Ever since having movie nights with John and Amy and munching on their air-popped popcorn, he has been craving it at home too. Now he can have it whenever the mood strikes!

Last weekend, September 6, John and Amy invited us to join them on a family day-trip to Mt. St. Helens. I had been one time as a little girl, but didn't remember it, and Michael hadn't been since he was in his early teens. Both of us had a really good time checking out the visitor centers and reading about the eruption in May of 1980. Amy and I agreed that the weather suited the subject at hand: it was gray and stormy and rained pretty hard on us about lunch time, spoiling all hope of a picnic lunch outside. It wasn't hard to imagine the day when the mountain sent ash spewing for hundreds of miles and turned the day into night. We all decided that we'd need to make the trip again, though, on a sunnier day when we could get a good look at Mt. St. Helens, because all we saw was her base--or what we assumed to be her base.

And finally . . . yes, it very well may be that I will be returning to work on a full-time basis shortly. It's been 6 months now (!) since I have worked regularly and the job prospect has been pretty bleak for both Michael and me. I did get a phone call on Labor Day, however, and an interview the next day. The job would be a customer service representative position with a medical transport company. Seniors and people with disabilities call and schedule transportation to and from doctor's appointments, and I would be one of the people taking their calls. I got to have a tour of the call center and even listen in on 3 or 4 calls to get an idea of the job. It seems like I would enjoy it--I've been wanting to find a niche where I could continue to work for others, and this would be quite rewarding, I think. So cross your fingers, everyone, as I'm hoping to hear back soon . . . one of the best things about the job is that I would once again have health insurance--finally!

One more thing to note . . . last night I had a training with a volunteer group in the Portland area called "No One Dies Alone." I had first read about this program in an Oprah magazine a year or so ago, and then my mom alerted me to a similar article in The Oregonian last June that said there was a need for volunteers. I feel a strong pull to doing this kind of work--sitting with people who are very close to death (within 24-48 hours), and who for whatever reason, do not have family or friends to be with them during their transition. After last night's training, I am excited and scared at the same time. I think it will be a sacred experience, witnessing this extremely personal part of someone's life, but at the same time, I hope I will be strong enough. We shall see, we shall see.

Socks To Make Me Happy

I love socks--fun, funky, colorful socks. While I have always worn socks, when I was growing up they were often plain white or black or blue. I just don't think there were that many to choose from back them. My love affair with socks began in earnest during the years that Lindsey and I volunteered at the Salem Art Fair and Festival . . . it was Lindsey's idea that we wear "art fair socks." And by that she meant wacky, zany socks that had at least one of the colors featured on that year's art fair t-shirt. Sometimes they were striped, or had flowers or some strange pattern, but they were always eye-catching. And fun. It always lifted my spirits to wear them and for the rest of the 361 days of the year that we were not involved in art fair activities, I would get dressed each morning and pull out my colorful socks with a smile on my face.

Our days of volunteering at the art fair are over (at least for now), and yet I still find myself drawn to crazy socks. When I am doing massage, I often wear black (for some reason, it's the unspoken professional attire among LMTs, scrubs notwithstanding) and my favorite thing to do is pair a black top with black pants and then add my socks of many colors. I am professional, yet fun. :)

I recently had to throw out my favorite pair of socks (the hippie-type ones with big flowers on them) because of the huge holes that developed in the heels--that was one of the only times I can think of when I wished my grandma had taught me to darn socks. I wanted to replace them, but hadn't yet found the "right" pair. Then my birthday rolled around and I got some money tucked inside a birthday card from one of my grandmas. Then I happened to be shopping with my mom at a hospital gift shop and found the perfect pair of socks. They were pricey, but hey, they were to be a birthday present . . . thanks, Grandma!

The socks come in a package of three (in case the dryer eats one) and are intentionally mismatched. That's right, they are not mirror images of each other, like "regular" socks. There are 4 types of these "Little MissMatched" socks that you can buy, depending on just how zany you want to get. The ones I liked are the "Marvelous" brand." This means that the colors of the socks are next to each other on the color wheel . . . slightly zany, but not absolutely kooky. "Fabulous" socks boast different shades of the same color while "Kooky" socks have colors that are opposite each other on the color wheel. Finally, "Zany" socks have every color on the color wheel--for the truly adventurous. :)

Here's the website, if you'd like to check them out for yourself: www.littlemissmatched.com

And next time you're feeling blue, rummage through your sock drawer and pull on a pair of good times with some "fun" socks. You'll feel better . . . I promise.

Our Weekend in The Dalles: Old Cars, Good Food and Family

Michael and I had a very busy three-day weekend in The Dalles that started last Friday and ended late Sunday night. The annual Hoffman Family Reunion was planned for the second Sunday in August, so we knew we'd be heading to The Dalles to attend--especially since we didn't go last year. Michael's parents invited us to come up early so that we could go to "Neon Nights," which is a parade of old cars and trucks, all in various stages of restoration, up and down the main streets of downtown The Dalles. The four of us had a front row seat for the festivities: we grabbed dinner at the new Taco Del Mar and sat at a table outside, munching burritos and watching the cars roll by. Michael's favorite car at the cruise-in was a 1969 Dodge Charger (made popular by a couple of rowdy cousins from Hazzard County). The one he liked most at the regular car show the next day was a Chevy Nova . . . he doesn't know what year it is, and doesn't care for the robin's egg blue color, but hey, if someone offered it to him, I don't think he'd say no. His dad (Ted) had an eye for a 1957 Thunderbird and a 1955 Ford hardtop . . . a huge car that was like one he owned as a kid. I fell in love with an old (40-something) Chevy that had beautiful curves and a striking silvery-gray paint job. The turquoise Volkswagen bug was also very nice. :) Michael doesn't think his mom had a favorite in the cruise-in, but she did own a 1965 Mustang Coupe back in the day. We watched the cars rumble down the street, revving their engines and peeling out for the spectators. Not a bad way to spend a Friday night . . .

The next day Michael and his dad worked on fixing the roof of a chicken coop for a customer while his mom and I checked out the little farmer's market in the city park. When I lived in The Dalles in the late '80's and early '90's, if you wanted to go to a farmer's market, your only option was Gresham. I'm happy to report that my little hometown has come into the modern era and now you can find fresh vegetables, fruits and flowers at the market every Saturday until 1pm. Donna (Michael's mom) even bought us a pint of some pure, raw snowberry honey from a farm in nearby Mosier.

We also visited the labyrinth up at Mid-Columbia Medical Center. I have wanted to walk a labyrinth for several months now but just haven't made it to any of the ones in the Portland area. My mom told me about the one at the hospital in The Dalles--apparently it has been there for a number of years. Mom said she should have gone and checked it out back when she was still working there. I told Donna that I really wanted to drive up and "walk it"and she went with me, not really knowing what it was all about. I was amazed at the beauty of the design and of the craftsmanship of the labyrinth. It looked like two kinds of granite was used. There was a stone marker near the entrance to the labyrinth that explained that it was a replica of the one at Chartres Cathedral in France. During the Middle Ages it was used by people who could not afford a pilgrimage to the Holy Land--in this way, they could still make the journey. The sign at the labyrinth in The Dalles invited people to enter with a clear mind. For me, walking the labyrinth is a powerful reminder of the journey that is my life. Just when I think I am reaching a "goal" or a milestone, my life changes and I keep walking--and learning. C'est la vie. :)

Michael's sister, Christy and her daughter, Jessica joined us Saturday night. Jessica loved watching Charlie (of course we brought him with us!!) and talking to him. By the time we went home on Sunday, she had already asked her mom if they could get a bird too. I found out that Jessica really likes looking at pictures. We looked at all of the ones on display in the living room and then Donna got out baby albums and we had fun looking at pictures of Jessica and her brother Ryan and remembering when they were both so much smaller.

Sunday morning was a bit hectic as Donna, Christy and I each prepared salads to take to the reunion. We were busy chopping and mixing and swapping out bowls. At one point I joked that it felt like we were in a cook-off! The guys had gone ahead to Sorosis Park to scope out some picnic tables and greet the first arrivals for the reunion.

It was a smaller gathering than it has been in the past, but it was fun nonetheless. The kids (both big and small) played horseshoes and everyone caught up on everyone else's lives and goings-on. Pictures were taken and hugs were given. Oh and food was eaten! There was such a smorgasbord of food--pasta and vegetable salads, baked bean casserole, sub sandwiches, the obligatory buckets of KFC, coleslaw, and desserts. Many people were chuckling over one of the cakes because the recipe called for a can of pork and beans. I didn't try the cake in question (I could not keep my hands off of Donna's zucchini bundt cake with cream cheese frosting!), but I thought it was an interesting notion. My other thought was just how bored does one have to be before experimenting with pork and beans in a cake recipe? :) Those crazy Hoffmans!

At the end of the day, Michael and I loaded Charlie's cage in the car and headed off into the sunset. We talked all the way home: about the people we'd seen, about the food we'd eaten and about our lives together. We'll see you next year, same time, same place, second Sunday in August.

Michael's cousin, Melissa, his sister, Christy, Michael and his cousin Tim at Sorosis Park.

Lemon Blueberry Buckle

Some of you know that I am a beginning cook. I'm here to tell you now that I am even more of a beginning baker. The beautiful KitchenAid mixer that my parents got me for Christmas (3 years ago?), has only recently begun to see some use--likewise the Silpat that my friend Lindsey persuaded me to buy at a cooking gadget party. She said it would be great for making cookies and that I could use it for baking many other things as well. My expertise thus far has been limited to the occasional batch of cookies or cupcakes and every so often a cake from a mix. One of the good things about having so much time on my hands is that I have time to try baking . . . and not from a mix. No my friends, baking from scratch, the real deal. If you read one of my previous posts, you saw a batch of the blueberry scones I made a few weeks ago. Spurred on by that success and by having an excess of blueberries from the day I went picking with my friend Amy, I decided to try something infinitely harder (or at least the recipe seemed much more complicated than the scone recipe): a lemon blueberry buckle.

The recipe came from a book (Rustic Fruit Desserts) that my mom saw advertised at a New Seasons store near my house. She asked me to get a copy for her and when I went to pick it up, I couldn't help but thumb through its heavenly pages, drooling. When I saw the recipe for the lemon blueberry buckle, I knew I had to try it. It was broken down into 3 separate sections: a recipe for making the crumble topping, a recipe for the cake itself, and a recipe for making the glaze . . . this last only required 2 ingredients, but it said that the finished product needed to pour like a syrup and that made me nervous. It sounded temperamental, this glaze.

The next time Michael and I went to the grocery store, I picked up the few ingredients I needed: a couple of lemons, some nutmeg, buttermilk and more sugar. I was ready to make the buckle; the problem was that we were in the middle of a heat wave and (being as the only air conditioning in our house is in our bedroom) there was no way I wanted to turn my oven to the required 350 degrees. I decided to wait a couple of days until my parents came over to drop off Charlie at our house before leaving on their vacation. I reasoned that the temperature might be a little cooler by then, and there would be the added bonus of showing off (I mean sharing) my masterpiece with my parents. :)

The day of the great buckle-making adventure arrived. I lined up all of the ingredients I would need on the counter, tied an apron around my waist and set to work. I remembered a friend telling me once, a long time ago, that the secret to baking was simply to "clean as you go." Okay, I thought, I'll do it, and I'll have a spotless kitchen by the time I'm through baking this wonderful dessert. I was definitely feeling my inner Martha Stewart. :) Long story short, the kitchen didn't exactly look clean by the time I was finished, several sweaty hours later--alas, the heat wave was not quite over. The buckle was in the oven, but the pan wasn't the right size and every time I checked to see if it was finished, the center still wasn't cooked through. Not to mention, the lemon glaze I was stirring refused to thicken to the consistency of syrup. The two events needed to be timed perfectly, because the syrup was supposed to be poured over the cake as soon as it came out of the oven. Eventually, my glaze took on the aroma of charred lemon, and I was pretty sure that last bit of the instructions, the glaze coup de grace was not going to happen.

The good news is that the finished product did look pretty darn good--and it tasted even better! We all got to sample it and marvel at the crunchy topping combined with the soft, crumbly cake, blueberries bursting in every mouthful. As I enjoyed it, the only sad thought I had was just how little time it was going to take to eat this lovely buckle, compared to the amount of work that had gone into it. I felt almost exactly like one of those cliched 50's housewives wiping a flour-dusted hand across a sweaty brow . . . "I slaved all day to make this dessert and now I still have all of these dishes to do." *sigh*

Next time, this 21st century housewife is going to enlist the help of anyone else in her household who might want to eat whatever mouth-watering dessert is on the menu--if not as sous chef, then at least as official dishwasher extraordinaire. :)

Lunch with Friends

Yesterday Michael and I met with an old friend from high school and his family and they took us out to lunch. When I was growing up in The Dalles, Terry lived right across the street from me. I think we first met in eighth grade when I began attending The Dalles Junior High--we were both in band! :) Terry said that he and Michael met in junior high too, but I don't remember that since I didn't officially meet Michael until our senior year of high school when we had a personal finance class together.

It had been a long time since we had all seen each other. Terry and his wife, Su Jin and their son Jaden (who is almost 10 now!) have lived in Albany for many years, and I don't get down that way as much as I would like. One of the last times we had seen each other was before Michael and I were married and we lived in our old apartment in Beaverton. I think Jaden was only 4 or 5 then! We had so much fun reminiscing yesterday and spending time together, that we all agreed we should make a point of trying extra hard to fit in a get-together with each other at least once a month--even if it is only meeting them in Tigard when they come up to shop at a specialty grocery store.

Once again, I was reminded of what a blessing it is to have good friends, and of how one's friends and family are the most important things in life.

A Bird in the House: Lucky Chucky

My parents are off on their 2-week road trip to Minnesota. They packed their car and trailer, loaded up their dog and headed out this morning. Since my mom is in her fifties and my dad is in his sixties and this is their first-ever trip of this nature, I am very proud of them.

Since I was about 7, our family has had animals. Over the years, my parents have owned 2 cats, 4 dogs and a bird. Wherever they go, their animals accompany them--even on camping trips. And the trailers my parents have owned have always been pretty small affairs, intended mostly for sleeping. On one memorable occasion about 6 years ago, chaos erupted in their tiny camper. The three of us humans were in there, both dogs were barking, the bird was squawking and I couldn't stop laughing at the comedy of the situation. Yes, my parents take their bird camping with them; he also rides in the car with a seat belt strapped around his cage, and he sleeps in their bedroom. Talk about a lucky bird. :)

Anyway, for this particular trip, my parents thought it might be better to leave Charlie with a sitter. I think they thought things might be just a little too crowded if they brought the bird, his cage and all his paraphernalia on their road trip adventure across America--with their dog, Sadie riding next to him and trying to eat him through his cage. So Michael and I volunteered to take him . . . keeping in mind the fact that Charlie would be sharing our house with Chloe, my "almost" 10-year-old cat.

Mom and Dad brought him over yesterday, along with both of his cages (he has a large "condo" cage on wheels and a smaller one that would be better for taking him upstairs with us, should we choose to put him in our bedroom at night. He was pretty quiet last night, being that he was probably in a little bit of a culture shock from being in a new environment. Besides that, he gets really quiet when it's dark--I think because he can't see where potential predators might be and he doesn't want to give away his position.

My mom and I were sitting downstairs last night after they had brought him over, and I was interested to see what Chloe would think of Charlie. I coaxed her downstairs (she is very shy when people come to our house and always runs upstairs to hide in my book room) and was surprised that she didn't seem to notice him. She definitely heard him tweeting, because she looked around for the source of the sound, but I don't think she connected it to the cage. And I am almost positive she didn't see him in there.

We tried to get Charlie to go into his smaller cage last night so we could take him to bed with us, but he would have none of it. So I double and then triple-checked the doors on his cage, to make sure he couldn't get them open and fly out onto the floor where Chloe would surely find him. I even turned his cage around so the door that has the loosest latch faced the wall--just in case he managed to get it open. It would be bad enough if Chloe got to him, but to have to tell my parents that their beloved (and I do mean beloved) bird was eaten by my cat on his first night at our house would have been unthinkable. So I made sure he was locked up tight and then went to bed. Chloe still didn't seem to realize he was there, although she did sniff at the legs of his cage a little and sniffed the air like she smelled "bird" (or some other tantalizing scent) but couldn't tell where it was coming from.

This morning when I opened the bedroom door, Chloe was lying there, waiting for me. I was glad to see that she hadn't brought me a "present" in the middle of the night and that Charlie must still be safe in his cage. Chloe followed me downstairs for her breakfast and when I took the towels off of Charlie's cage, he began to greet me with some fairly loud squawks. This time, Chloe took notice. She sat down in front of his cage, her gaze riveted to his figure on its perch. I don't think I've ever seen that kind of concentration from her. He got very quiet and turned his head so that one beady eye looked right at her. Her attention was glued to him for about 10 minutes and then she sauntered off. He looked a little shaken, and I talked to him soothingly, telling him not to worry, that I would not let her get him. Maybe she sent him a silent signal that said, "I'll leave you alone for now, bird. But watch yourself." :)

A couple of our friends came over later in the morning, for breakfast and a movie and Charlie got really loud. But when Michael and I came back this afternoon from meeting some other friends for lunch, he was very quiet and just peeped at us a bit. I called my parents to see if they had made it to their first overnight stop yet (Spokane, WA), and to give them an update on Charlie. I held the phone up to his cage and turned the speakerphone on. That bird definitely knows who his mom and dad are! It was the funniest thing to watch Charlie start tweeting and "talking" to their voices coming over the phone--he looked right at the phone the whole time. It was very sweet. Who knew a bird could have so much personality? :)

So Charlie will be our companion for the next 2 weeks, and as I write this, he is sitting in his cage next to me, tweeting for all he is worth. Mom and Dad said he really likes to be around people (just not too many at one time or he gets overwhelmed), so hopefully, Michael and I will be good company for him too.

I just have to keep an eye on one little gray kitty . . .

Dinner, Friends and Fun

Sunday after we came back from Lincoln City, we had our good friends John, Amy, Connor and Kaiden over to our house for a BBQ. Amy brought a homemade pasta salad (with feta cheese and kalamata olives--YUM), watermelon and homemade french fries ala McMenamin's. Talk about good eats! We contributed the burgers and fixings, chips and grapes. It was nice to just sit on the back patio and relax in the warm weather. Luckily, we had a sprinkler nearby that everyone could cool off in between rounds of UNO. :)

After dinner, we all made our way up to the Cooper Mountain Nature Park (which is luckily and unbelievably close to both of our houses) for a short walk among the trees. It was dark when we left, but there was still time for a quick ice cream bar before bed. It was a wonderful end to a wonderful day spent with friends--and it reminded me that the best things in life don't cost anything more than gas and some groceries.

Lincoln City and the Sand Monster

Sunday was set to be sweltering in the city, and our friends Ken and Lindsey (and four-year-old Morgan) invited us to meet them at Lincoln City to play in the sand and surf. I was too excited to sleep and was up before 5 am. :) Michael wasn't quite as enthusiastic as I was; I'm sure he would have preferred to sleep in longer, but the beach was calling and his wife was ready to go! We stopped for gas and hit the road, taking "the back way" to Lincoln City, which to me means going through farm country through Newberg and McMinnville. It was a gorgeous drive with bright sunshine for most of the way. As we neared the coast, however, the sky turned white and the sun was nowhere to be found. While we waited for Lindsey, Ken and Morgan to meet us, Michael and I headed down to say hello to the ocean. It was downright cold and there was heavy fog to boot! It was quite a dramatic change from the sun and heat of the city. We bundled up in sweatshirts and I was wishing I had brought tennis shoes instead of my flip-flops as my feet were already getting cold and the day had hardly begun!

Happily, by the time Lindsey and Morgan arrived, it had begun to warm up and soon the exertion of building sand castles meant that I could shed my sweatshirt and stay comfortable. It remained foggy until we left around 3:30pm, but I liked it. I knew it had to be hot at home and I was happy to wade in the freezing ocean with Morgan. She and "Untle" Mikey (as she calls him), busily built sand castles (okay, Michael painstakingly built them), until the Sand Monster (aka Morgan) came and stomped them flat, then rolled on the place where they'd been for good measure. Untle Mikey's lower lip popped out to express his dismay, as Morgan giggled and danced around on the sand. I patted Michael on the back and said, "This is what it's like to have kids, honey." :)

Lindsey had the great idea of building a sand castle specifically for any Sand Monsters that might happen to show up and want to be stompers. Morgan called it a "Monster Castle" and that is what the four of us built. Then Morgan, Michael and I took great joy in destroying it with our feet. I laughed, saying that it sure took a lot less time to build than it did to stomp--about 3 seconds.

We played and played and laughed at the sheer joy on Morgan's face--it was hard not to feel like a four-year-old and I reveled in it. It was the first time in a long time that I skipped along the sand--and even galloped a little! Michael had a good time too. He was a willing playmate for Morgan and was game for anything she suggested. I love watching him with children; what an amazing father he will be.

After playing in the waves, looking for agates and skipping rocks until my feet turned red and Morgan began to shiver just the slightest bit, we packed up and headed to the local Subway for lunch. That veggie sandwich on flatbread tasted delicious and so did the potato chowder that Morgan shared with me. :)

After lunch we said goodbye and gave hugs and blew kisses, and headed home from our day at the beach. I for one, cannot wait to do it again.

Some Miscellaneous Fun Things

Over the past couple of weeks, I have had a lot of fun! I got 2 great birthday gifts that I have to show off . . . one is a lovely wind chime from my parents that has the most beautiful tones I have ever heard in a chime. There was some information on the chime tucked in the box that said it had been tuned to the Key of A. I never even thought for a moment that something like that could be done with wind chimes. The effect is very nice, let me tell you. I've been spending a lot of time sitting on the back porch in one of the Adirondack chairs and listening to the haphazard melody that the wind creates with the chime. Peaceful, very peaceful.

I also got some very beautiful flowers for my birthday from my brother and sister-in-law and their kids. They all came to our house last Sunday for hamburgers, a spirited water fight, and a trip to my favorite nursery, Farmington Gardens. Christy and Jessica (my sister-in-law and niece) helped me arrange the flowers in some pots that I had available. I really like how they turned out--especially the trailing flowers--beautiful!

A couple of weeks ago I decided to use (finally!) the very cool garden stone-making kit that my mom got for me last year. It came with its own little packet of cement, tint for the cement, some rectangular plastic molds for the stones and stamps for all the letters of the alphabet as well as numbers and punctuation marks--everything I could possibly need to make some unique and beautiful stones! It took me a little while to figure out what I wanted to say, but I settled on some French words . . . mon petit jardin. It translates to "my little garden." And fittingly, I do have a very little garden this year--just my pots of flowers and the yellow volunteer pansies that decided to make a home amid our path of stepping stones.

Lastly, last week I tried my hand at making some blueberry scones for the very first time. I got a smokin' hot deal on blueberries at Fred Meyer, and wanted to make sure they did not go to waste. The recipe I found on the Internet was a low-calorie, low-fat recipe and I thought, "Hey, why not try it? If they're terrible, I'll never make them again." Well, they were not terrible. They were fantastic! :) They looked like little chocolate chip cookies, and I figured since they were small, I could eat more of them than I would if they were the normal scone size. I thought they were best fresh from the oven, when the juice from the blueberries was still hot and the berries themselves kind of burst in my mouth. Yum. Michael thought they were great too, and within only a couple of days, we were out! I made a double-batch the next time and those were wonderful too. I have the recipe posted on Facebook, in case anyone is interested. :)

Hello Again!!!!

Well, I have decided to take up our blog again--and I just noticed that oddly enough, it is exactly a year today since my last post. How strange is that?! I am already addicted to Facebook (as many of you know!), but it's not really set up in a format that is conducive to blogging. Besides that, I can't seem to convince Michael to set up a Facebook page. So perhaps this blog will do a good job of keeping you all up-to-date with what is happening in both of our lives.

Yesterday, we went to my parents' house and Michael helped my dad build a trellis for their front yard. They have a wisteria plant that has been in a pot for over a year and has just been waiting for the perfect structure to be built for it to grow on. The trellis turned out really great! Michael enjoyed having a project (it keeps his mind off of being unemployed), and my dad basically gave him free rein to do most of the work. Dad's arm has been bothering him, and he didn't want to get up on the ladder, so he was the project supervisor. :)

My mom had to work until 2:30pm, so I contented myself with reading one of her books while the guys went to Lowe's and dug holes for the trellis posts. After she was done, we went thrift store shopping! Of course I walked away with a few more books for my collection, but their prices were so great (under $2.00 for trade-size paperbacks), that I couldn't resist. Then we sat in the sun in lawn chairs as Michael and Dad finished up.

Dad made beef stir-fry with rice for dinner (which was restaurant-quality delicious!) and we had fresh melon for dessert along with the last of the blueberry scones I made. Mom thought the scones were especially good with a dollop of whip cream on them. She was right! We sat around and talked until about 9pm, then finally headed for home.

As we pulled into our driveway, I spotted the NASA space station sailing silently (and extremely brightly) overhead. Mom and Dad had told us that it was supposed to be visible around 9:45pm, and let me tell you that we completely lucked out at seeing it since it was moving so quickly. As I watched it, I tried to imagine the people up there, so far away, and it boggled my mind. It really is amazing that we have the technology to send people into space and bring them safely home again. It makes me wonder if regular citizens will be traveling and even living in space in my lifetime. How scary and utterly exciting at the same time!