tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86061804566240007352024-02-18T23:02:02.231-05:00My Suburban BubbleA look inside my little bubble.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger271125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8606180456624000735.post-88226840220708328472013-03-04T20:01:00.003-05:002013-03-04T20:01:58.192-05:00In Which I Recap With PhotosI can't seem to find a rhythm to keep the blog current with events as they occur. Seems I'm destined to be a "Week in Review" kind of blogger. There have been big happenings here in the past 9 days.<br />
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I can't believe this first picture is from only 9 days ago. Alex's school science fair project advanced to the Regional competition where he earned another first place. Always wondered just what the heck gluten is anyway? Ask the boy, he can tell you. That and whether to use bread flour or pastry flour for your next pie crust (pastry!).<br />
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Shortly after the science fair we headed to San Antonio where Emma had qualified to be in the Regional competition for the National History Bee. We studied history 'til we knew all kinds of facts about <i>Marbury vs. Madison</i> and the Albigensian Crusades. Despite spending the first round getting used to the game-show buzzers and realizing she was going to have to hop to it if she meant to beat some of those history-obsessed boys to the buzzer she ended up in the top 10 finalists. Better than any Jeopardy! episode ever.<br />
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THEN, the spring musical. After months of rehearsals, prop-building and painting the singing and dancing is behind us. It was strange to sit down and look ahead to the week and see only SPACE in those afternoon slots (and swim practice.....but that's different).<br />
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My car hit 111,111 miles.</div>
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Emma was accepted to LASA, one of the local high school magnet schools. After much contemplation she has decided to give it a shot. As difficult as I KNOW it is for her to embark on this new, scary, exciting, challenging adventure I am sure I do not fully grasp the courage required. I am in awe of her.<br />
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Speaking of courage, I am reminded of this list Alex brought home on Valentine's day. Every student had an assignment to write one kind sentence about all the other students and the teacher compiled the lists. This is Alex's. They're all sweet and wonderful but my absolute favorite of ALL TIME is the first one. Especially the "courage giver" part. I want to be a courage giver too. I want everyone to be a courage giver. Imagine what the world could be like if only there were more courage givers out there.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8606180456624000735.post-6766085532144188842013-02-24T18:07:00.004-05:002013-02-24T18:13:12.619-05:00Red River 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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After a hiatus last year we hit the road for a semi-long weekend and drove to Red River, NM for a ski weekend with the family. It was our first family ski trip in a looooong time. What used to be a regular thing, when there were fewer of us (I'm looking at YOU, Children!) had faded to nothing in the last several years. This was the first time on skis for the little nieces and Emma became the best ski instructor anyone in the family has ever had. Last summer she taught the girlies to swim and now to ski. As Madilyn put it, "She's a really good cousin". I couldn't agree more.</div>
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I really love Red River. It hasn't gone commercial and consists of one street with some Mom & Pop restaurants, a market, and ski gear and rentals, some local tchotchke shops and places to stay. What more do you need? They've even started making snow so no worries about the slopes being rocky or bare in those dryer years. And the crowds were nonexistent. Sunday I think I waited in a lift line for maybe 2-3 minutes while Monday and Tuesday there was NO WAITING at all. It could not have been better. There were several moments on the slopes where we were the only ones within view. Our own private mountain. </div>
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It almost became our private mountain for a few bonus days. We woke early on Wednesday to make the trek back to Austin only to find about six inches of snow on the ground, about five hours earlier than the forecast I saw had predicted. No bueno. My minivan was not going to make that climb out of the valley so we had to sit tight and hope the plows came soon. Turned out it only took the plows as long as it took Shotgun Willies to cook us up some french toast and eggs so we were on our way. </div>
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Everyone made improvements (even ME!) and has vowed to keep the momentum. Red River, we'll be back!</div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8606180456624000735.post-89672290488581726662013-02-14T09:27:00.002-05:002013-02-14T14:47:53.715-05:00On the road<br />
There are moments in parenting that undeniably remind you that time flies, nothing stays the same and the time we have we our kids is ridiculously short. First day of kindergarten comes to mind. Those first steps that come so quickly, and words coming out of their mouth like magic, losing teeth, riding a bicycle. There are so many examples. Here's another. I can't get my mind around how our Sunday mornings went from this:<br />
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To this:</div>
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This along with several high school related activities. Elective showcases and those pesky academic classes that get in the way of just taking theatre all day, every day (but isn't all the world a stage?). AP or Not To AP? It's definitely forced me to start thinking in terms of how many years before college is staring us in the face (answer = not many!) and all the growing up that's going to happen in what is really such a short time. And how quickly it's going to go.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8606180456624000735.post-76258438559773253602013-02-05T20:27:00.002-05:002013-02-06T11:06:51.754-05:00FarmingAfter the hellish summer of '11 I made a solemn vow (if solemn = an uninterrupted string of bitter curses) to stop beating my head against a scorching hot wall by trying to coax food to grow in this hot dry climate. I kept that vow for 2012 but my empty garden plot looked so lonely and these lovely onion sets just showed up on my doorstep. How could I NOT plant them? And lovingly mist them? We will get big shiny onions. We WILL!<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8606180456624000735.post-39848557961815649502013-02-05T14:03:00.001-05:002013-02-05T20:01:12.805-05:00Amazing Race!Alex and I ran the Amazing Race at his school on Saturday. There was a strong bias in favor of people from Texas since all the obstacles included trivia about Texas. That's my excuse if we don't win. Thank goodness we all now know that the LONGHORN is the official state mammal. <br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8606180456624000735.post-83203956702531306352013-01-24T10:04:00.000-05:002013-01-24T10:08:18.269-05:00A brief retrospectiveI haven't coordinated with Ian to get the nice NY pics from his camera yet so here's a look back at the recent holidays. We made the trek to the Twin Cities for the first time in a shamefully long time. The drive didn't seem overly tedious. I guess if you put an iDevice (or two) in the hands of all passengers time will fly.<br />
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First we stopped off in Oklahoma City to visit my family and celebrate our Christmas with them. Over the years we've done various takes on name drawing or Dirty Santa - homemade gifts, used items, $25 limit - and now we've moved on to Gift Card Dirty Santa. We left for the northern leg of our trip well-stocked with iTunes, Target, Whole Foods and Starbucks cards.<br />
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After narrowly missing what must've been a tow truck driver's worst nightmare in Des Moines we made it to blustery St. Paul. It was cold like we haven't felt in a very long time. Negatives! As much as I hate the Austin summers I don't know if the Minnesota winters are any better. Heat Index vs. Wind Chill? But those Minnesota summers...ahhhhhh. Alex was thrilled to see real snow...INCHES of it! Emma was tickled to finally have good reason to wear her warm boots. She also spent Christmas Eve in bed with a cold, but thankfully not the horrid flu that was going around. Knock on wood.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The new house is beautiful!</td></tr>
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There was sledding and visiting family & friends and gifts and a Trader Joe's (my FIRST!). The Mall of America (SOMEONE needs to create a decent app that will let visitors plan their trip). They've made a lot of changes since ditching the 'Camp Snoopy' theme. I was also struck by guards at every entrance turning away any unchaperoned under-21s. I can't imagine the throngs of people if they hadn't been turning some people away. By 2pm it went from being merely crowded to Oh-My-God-I-Just-Need-To-Find-A-Corner-To-Rock-In-Crowded. But Emma loved every minute and we did actually score some fun deals. And the SOCK store - JUST SOCKS from floor to ceiling. Oh My.<br />
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It was a perfect holiday break. Celebrated three Christmases and still had time at home to wallow in being lazy for a few days before school started.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8606180456624000735.post-62444510146947705632013-01-18T17:18:00.001-05:002013-01-18T17:19:37.862-05:00NYC - 2013Heeellllllloooooo!!! It's me! Still here. I know. It's been a while...if you can call a few years "a while". But as time has been seeming to speed up lately and my memory for details has been suffering I thought I should resume recording some highlights. Since getting my scrapbooks up to date is less likely than a cooperative congressional session I will give this another shot. And I can share! With you!!<br />
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The inspiration was our recent trip to NYC. It was A's first trip and E's second, she having visited three years ago with Ian and cousin P. The kids sat down with our DK New York book from a decade ago and wrote out their "must-dos". It was a long list that the naysayer in me said we'd never get done - and we didn't - BUT we made a darn good dent in it. My feet felt like they'd been beaten and I guess they had. I forgot my Fuel band at home so have no idea how many steps we took every day but it was A LOT. The aftermath of Hurricane Sandy hampered our trip somewhat - no stops at the Statue of Liberty / Ellis Island (hopped a Staten Island Ferry to get a drive-by view), the Enterprise was under repair and covered with scaffolding on the Intrepid, and rerouted subways and trains threw us off track upon arrival and when we tried to get to Hoboken to visit Carlo's Bakery.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">7am - Ready to go! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3dGjwz7khGmAAoLulXlWCN2oYKCuKYFtEoBxNy_dHiO1lssesZ9pRYQcqlzpoeq4UmEAoe0suxkYzyQTcqW2o5IP772-OC9iQvHoNSsNqyQKRIyrPiMORrCv4lS2cYpoSfKwSGCaG2fvC/s1600/IMG_0807.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3dGjwz7khGmAAoLulXlWCN2oYKCuKYFtEoBxNy_dHiO1lssesZ9pRYQcqlzpoeq4UmEAoe0suxkYzyQTcqW2o5IP772-OC9iQvHoNSsNqyQKRIyrPiMORrCv4lS2cYpoSfKwSGCaG2fvC/s320/IMG_0807.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">FAO Schwarz</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Vb7rFlrjp2KSRN3BfSGVPgUZOQztKCAzhPYHfY1oJW5kJpguzsuGZ4fmazd_q1Mx8ESAzaxikySf-2RH4THIs_h7d_agugf512YhdoaSl56DUvd5UOVCU-GgNGHU9FpYxHbLYJS_vXA_/s1600/IMG_0812.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Vb7rFlrjp2KSRN3BfSGVPgUZOQztKCAzhPYHfY1oJW5kJpguzsuGZ4fmazd_q1Mx8ESAzaxikySf-2RH4THIs_h7d_agugf512YhdoaSl56DUvd5UOVCU-GgNGHU9FpYxHbLYJS_vXA_/s320/IMG_0812.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We closed the place down.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMwykJmOEoTtdF2J9AI2f8mlyFAm9SBBV4L2FkD6Lnvy4WLNDcYQOijDQhH2ihH812dk0sSftEtvfm_W5vYJjl94yPxVBptfaPQAKhNrwYRglbSv4hl5ccKrqL6PqeWKdM5jvT6XnZRVWt/s1600/IMG_0826.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMwykJmOEoTtdF2J9AI2f8mlyFAm9SBBV4L2FkD6Lnvy4WLNDcYQOijDQhH2ihH812dk0sSftEtvfm_W5vYJjl94yPxVBptfaPQAKhNrwYRglbSv4hl5ccKrqL6PqeWKdM5jvT6XnZRVWt/s320/IMG_0826.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpw81Zy5ODy793wP7oB9RFKewGO4jbljb2sbIR5wqYsXgcWz3PS-dw9U-6uWeep5_yPd1EyFN_sfyl6IXWvLcEIFyBZ9f5Nva3dvFNvdiMKIFm1CSe398Jk0XJGh94QkWpnLfshIoYLx9p/s1600/IMG_0822.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpw81Zy5ODy793wP7oB9RFKewGO4jbljb2sbIR5wqYsXgcWz3PS-dw9U-6uWeep5_yPd1EyFN_sfyl6IXWvLcEIFyBZ9f5Nva3dvFNvdiMKIFm1CSe398Jk0XJGh94QkWpnLfshIoYLx9p/s320/IMG_0822.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Intrepid Air & Space Museum</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb34rGFnuaJQd9SZHHQgRSUQBXAdv_8q902AjSX4opJU0-Kcjxgw1FDKIQJRfb2ICR0o9zACZkdGSMehafKhE4VZRAG5GrDQTko08NpS7WyMxSL8fCfqLKMnRuVO9cMKxkVQ7G-mKltbf0/s1600/IMG_0836.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb34rGFnuaJQd9SZHHQgRSUQBXAdv_8q902AjSX4opJU0-Kcjxgw1FDKIQJRfb2ICR0o9zACZkdGSMehafKhE4VZRAG5GrDQTko08NpS7WyMxSL8fCfqLKMnRuVO9cMKxkVQ7G-mKltbf0/s320/IMG_0836.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the Met</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKflCPDl6uz7pZQwxz60DfleUPgWpgFRqJna2kixAC485AuGLLPTcj24nAAgPN3CdBy6MZhtKPO93hAW5OzwQth4r4putcf6AcZDM4nftL_-V6po-6X_CbKSfQ2XLbrozluz0nWjZlbMnv/s1600/IMG_0840.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKflCPDl6uz7pZQwxz60DfleUPgWpgFRqJna2kixAC485AuGLLPTcj24nAAgPN3CdBy6MZhtKPO93hAW5OzwQth4r4putcf6AcZDM4nftL_-V6po-6X_CbKSfQ2XLbrozluz0nWjZlbMnv/s320/IMG_0840.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wicked - amazing!!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLopMiqBcEjUiKJ0Xc02wC-v-104Wu6tctEKRguV-B5xMb7cYSBRzVekqb5uV11iyZdhRjTZpnlJOYEGBkW7A-YSHsNgTEb5vibH3QGBHseSu2iEswxs4rOg5G1PsWpscJFWPPA0WSTKnG/s1600/IMG_0860.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLopMiqBcEjUiKJ0Xc02wC-v-104Wu6tctEKRguV-B5xMb7cYSBRzVekqb5uV11iyZdhRjTZpnlJOYEGBkW7A-YSHsNgTEb5vibH3QGBHseSu2iEswxs4rOg5G1PsWpscJFWPPA0WSTKnG/s320/IMG_0860.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sullen-faced at Strawberry Fields.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhHSmbp4omyNo5Q9ERiJ9Nm5r9QeGoqAiUxEQZToHeJx9mmvGQPQYac8sWJgzqBiG2bxyo9bRV9AgIDojI_PJJLa810JamxLdeWlk446UlwgI5VArNWE2M8F9TNXeqP-Mh3abjFDhSMz3K/s1600/IMG_0850.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhHSmbp4omyNo5Q9ERiJ9Nm5r9QeGoqAiUxEQZToHeJx9mmvGQPQYac8sWJgzqBiG2bxyo9bRV9AgIDojI_PJJLa810JamxLdeWlk446UlwgI5VArNWE2M8F9TNXeqP-Mh3abjFDhSMz3K/s320/IMG_0850.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">T-Rex at the American Museum of Natural History</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOPB8zSBNR1ZnFku1T3wTOd5EBqaYMHpdzGkLzc-ImMY4px6ZRogqHJHludoMQlYqcB2puW8DWM3q_cktCwWcc9Byya0DGG0Q3dbPmKo2m6p-egrz4JcmTShH3Zg6eAfvGcIyl-l7kgzvG/s1600/IMG_0870.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOPB8zSBNR1ZnFku1T3wTOd5EBqaYMHpdzGkLzc-ImMY4px6ZRogqHJHludoMQlYqcB2puW8DWM3q_cktCwWcc9Byya0DGG0Q3dbPmKo2m6p-egrz4JcmTShH3Zg6eAfvGcIyl-l7kgzvG/s320/IMG_0870.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cake pops at Dylan's Candy Bar. Which is totally the Disneyworld of candy shops.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX3PHCNzeo48YGReZJAyXvlDgdwDJhUL62ur7UNY2tE74R66j2Jblz_aycirFbFBVlTh5z5y8ekTvcicBCTtiVYA8POGxkkzPQOCUmm50QCfysXAHJuoZ5u-aErXQcHbB_2PYGSrYcnG6G/s1600/IMG_0865.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX3PHCNzeo48YGReZJAyXvlDgdwDJhUL62ur7UNY2tE74R66j2Jblz_aycirFbFBVlTh5z5y8ekTvcicBCTtiVYA8POGxkkzPQOCUmm50QCfysXAHJuoZ5u-aErXQcHbB_2PYGSrYcnG6G/s320/IMG_0865.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He carries the world on his shoulders every day.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcDRuZncC_RrpqQKk7v92PYSXiDrs3ElyT6DHAkeaBRUJxP8xtAma91WecBu0H4Rmj9SQ0yDymOIeUh3T0wybFzPA6JLaoxtKCkkby6VoEhWNzho7aR87k7S18fyKq39QGKMRsz3YMWiIr/s1600/IMG_0875.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcDRuZncC_RrpqQKk7v92PYSXiDrs3ElyT6DHAkeaBRUJxP8xtAma91WecBu0H4Rmj9SQ0yDymOIeUh3T0wybFzPA6JLaoxtKCkkby6VoEhWNzho7aR87k7S18fyKq39QGKMRsz3YMWiIr/s320/IMG_0875.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cake Boss! The pastries were fantastic (Gah! The CREAM! ). The cupcake, not so much. Too sweet.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0EhaDmYG0cXfumJEXCX9uKWHiME0UeYYyrIWqoO-9yYf4Lw3jZkqCOv5Pk2znQD9taMqr-Bq76ON9zgr105iDx_9Y9Kkw-0syVzPYshKt50f19q-x99_iKXjE2VRaqDFdDexkpS4tcGt1/s1600/IMG_0876.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0EhaDmYG0cXfumJEXCX9uKWHiME0UeYYyrIWqoO-9yYf4Lw3jZkqCOv5Pk2znQD9taMqr-Bq76ON9zgr105iDx_9Y9Kkw-0syVzPYshKt50f19q-x99_iKXjE2VRaqDFdDexkpS4tcGt1/s320/IMG_0876.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Buddy says the Lobster Claw (pastry-cream filled croissant) is their best thing and I have to agree that it was blissful. But this cannoli cake was so pretty. Wish we could have brought it back with us.<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">Ian has many more photos from his real camera so maybe I'll get some higher quality pics up here soon from some of the other attractions. </span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8606180456624000735.post-23581182469522892792009-09-01T22:17:00.004-04:002009-09-01T22:34:08.482-04:00Two moms. Five kids. We so crazy!I've heard rumors claiming Austin had a hotter July than recorded history had ever shown. Weather reports were banned from my eyesight and earshot after the 30th day of temperatures rising higher than something in the range of Satan's netherworld but I don't doubt it. Not to be held down by the oppressive heat (or perhaps crazy from it?) CCC and I somehow got the idea in our heads to go even closer to the equator and ended up with all five kids in San Antonio for some fun a few weeks back.<br /><br />We ran a zone defense and I think we teamed up quite nicely. The kids all managed to have fun and I daresay, so did I, despite feeling like I was truly going to die during a few moments of overwhelming heat sufferage.<br /><br />CCC, being the Movie Master that she is, put together <a href="http://www.vimeo.com/5894597">this lovely account.</a> I couldn't have said it better myself.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8606180456624000735.post-14505825042044951972009-08-31T09:25:00.002-04:002009-08-31T10:21:04.797-04:00Suburban wildlifeMade a new friend while setting out the recycle bins yesterday when I came within an inch of stepping on the neatly coiled thing. The thing waited patiently under the recycle box I hastily threw on top of it while Bubble Boy and kids ran out so we could all gawk and frantically snap pics. Big E shot some video but since the poor snake was paralyzed with fear the video looks pretty much exactly like the photo.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih_umUj61v8NhIP7WaqIWDOUtavLTyGuFXxF7Rq08jeOtVAGioetGYqVxzRuj0Ji5t6xI4nDAzGViHfz6PmLozqMMgxPI3wsFoTuAfUZKZ3TxB5vSnyDX9eEO7KNfUMcoyvH2k2bOAhh0R/s1600-h/snake+in+the+grass.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih_umUj61v8NhIP7WaqIWDOUtavLTyGuFXxF7Rq08jeOtVAGioetGYqVxzRuj0Ji5t6xI4nDAzGViHfz6PmLozqMMgxPI3wsFoTuAfUZKZ3TxB5vSnyDX9eEO7KNfUMcoyvH2k2bOAhh0R/s400/snake+in+the+grass.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376119289487323842" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8606180456624000735.post-1555518329207907952009-08-25T14:36:00.006-04:002009-08-25T15:16:03.944-04:00So it begins....again....and again.<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg61GVBAzALfICztaPm_z9QrUqmyi2bW0c8ccT6-jI8l3BK-peGoBmCCGSSTqm5B529DcOtWAzChKOKSRIleDSM9gbXHSrU5xFOOxtvnhvF5ELfb9dG3HQmhLg3QGzbEf4L-DmMqDLvnMNy/s1600-h/IMG_2826.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg61GVBAzALfICztaPm_z9QrUqmyi2bW0c8ccT6-jI8l3BK-peGoBmCCGSSTqm5B529DcOtWAzChKOKSRIleDSM9gbXHSrU5xFOOxtvnhvF5ELfb9dG3HQmhLg3QGzbEf4L-DmMqDLvnMNy/s400/IMG_2826.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373978919579520882" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Little A did NOT wear his hair in this horned style. Although he wanted to.<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>After a summer of friends, sleeping in, popsicles, lazy days, nights of swimming, fun adventures hither and yon, with only a smattering of "I'm bored" and sibling squabbling rising to the surface here and there, we aired up the bicycle tires (why did I bother showering?) and rode off into the not-quite-cool morning to face the throngs of people descending upon the school for the first day of school. I didn't think to take a picture of the crowd trying to wedge itself through the hallway yesterday but here's a snap of today's crowd which I estimate at less than half of yesterday.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpWVJhHaXSa4a407qbj4GrGXS4ZLqPsbqjfbtl6UUyRJrE8dbp7u5RFWAQYgUVg55NAbTewMGI6RKV2K2t3auWeCnPRUhN7jM9rEKDlcjzUHKJwfa4Vx2rkpQCa2yWUUWQF_PdgJrK3kr1/s1600-h/IMG_2859.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpWVJhHaXSa4a407qbj4GrGXS4ZLqPsbqjfbtl6UUyRJrE8dbp7u5RFWAQYgUVg55NAbTewMGI6RKV2K2t3auWeCnPRUhN7jM9rEKDlcjzUHKJwfa4Vx2rkpQCa2yWUUWQF_PdgJrK3kr1/s400/IMG_2859.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373980171977295154" border="0" /></a><br />Big E was giddy with anticipation to get started with her fabulous teacher and class. Friends scattered throughout her classroom and the knowledge of all the privileges 5th grade holds has kept her buzzing for the last week. A bit of melancholy when she realized Monday was to be her last "First" day at the school she's attended since kindergarten. How that seems like it could have easily been last year I can't explain. Time playing evil tricks.<br /><br />Little A was less giddy about moving on up to 1st grade. Moving from the cuddly comforts of his sweet kindergarten to the institutional portable building located 1/4 mile from the rest of the school, with its wood paneling and *gasp* his own desk, complete with a coloring sheet when he arrived. Not sure what to think about such an official looking classroom, he innocently reminded me, "I've never done this before". Sweet boy. Luckily, Ms. Teacher HAS done it many times before and I trust that he is in good hands.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3lM39qMMqgBJEBe-r0AHDfTN8SYGwlm4ws6SK-QFcCWaN1EHw9BblS5wUkuy4In8PWC2iZEkFZg6MSdH0CxTqh7e0s4kI6LoFBlStav3cHAMUxutYkfeArjsw7XQcTWm6Fa3Kcr3nouTe/s1600-h/IMG_2854.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3lM39qMMqgBJEBe-r0AHDfTN8SYGwlm4ws6SK-QFcCWaN1EHw9BblS5wUkuy4In8PWC2iZEkFZg6MSdH0CxTqh7e0s4kI6LoFBlStav3cHAMUxutYkfeArjsw7XQcTWm6Fa3Kcr3nouTe/s400/IMG_2854.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373978926211228754" border="0" /></a><br />End of First Day reports were mixed. Big E had "the best first day EVER" and enthusiastically continued similar remarks for the rest of the day. Little A was concerned about the strictness 1st grade seemed to entail and was troubled that one little girl had her name moved up to red on the very first day. That seemed a bad omen. He did not have his name moved up the naughty chart and for that he was hugely relieved but still felt very tentative today.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG-PqQBd5iQYFM3N-vwehebvS2tAy0QIR_q1BPq2l6ueJN3zo3djtgimqK29lFdFlZBBA01zEE_xYiNSutCgEsaSMpR6BjFq3b1Ie92FHTMN3IvABIxQICfV-JSeI5PMichubYWN2YLkmf/s1600-h/IMG_2863.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG-PqQBd5iQYFM3N-vwehebvS2tAy0QIR_q1BPq2l6ueJN3zo3djtgimqK29lFdFlZBBA01zEE_xYiNSutCgEsaSMpR6BjFq3b1Ie92FHTMN3IvABIxQICfV-JSeI5PMichubYWN2YLkmf/s400/IMG_2863.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373978931744723714" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">This was taken today so it's technically not a First Day pic. She warned me to not embarrass her in the class but I couldn't resist sneaking at least one. Absolutely no hugs or kisses though.</span><br /></div><br />In other beginnings....LOOKEE! LOOKEE! A blog post! Took a little vacation there for a few weeks. Can't wait to get caught up on what we've been doing.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8606180456624000735.post-63785950065643930982009-07-15T21:51:00.004-04:002009-07-15T23:32:40.007-04:00Momentum abatingSchool has been out for more than six weeks and it has taken this long for the unshakable inertia of our daily lives to finally relent enough to allow us long, uninterrupted hours at home.<br /><br />And so began Operation Home Time. Not just a Stay-cation (my apologies for using that term) for our town, but for our house. A trip to the library to load up on so many books we had to drag them to the car. Not only bring them home, but READ them! Most of them anyway. Clean out the deepest recesses of the nooks and crannies. Dig out the toys we haven't seen for months. It's like they're new all over again!<br /><br />Little A's marble run project.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ3cXUJtD_NkQkGhCwjYFtaKsdc2mpO95N2SBNBPFi-cS2Y-7JJsVZYZoF-yqmXZmCcSkKIEVtVetWrk98ziDANq2tMVtJT2gmMNmIvhbzf7YA_rReSPd575K1bw4Mz_DLgJUquiR_J5mV/s1600-h/alex+marble+run.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ3cXUJtD_NkQkGhCwjYFtaKsdc2mpO95N2SBNBPFi-cS2Y-7JJsVZYZoF-yqmXZmCcSkKIEVtVetWrk98ziDANq2tMVtJT2gmMNmIvhbzf7YA_rReSPd575K1bw4Mz_DLgJUquiR_J5mV/s400/alex+marble+run.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358871232206564002" border="0" /></a><br />It has since expanded into a multi-level Wonder of Engineering that spans his dresser, train table and on to the floor. The best part is how he says "Come watch this marBALL!!", with the emphasis on "BALL". He's pointing at himself to leave no doubt of exactly who was the constructor of this kinetic masterpiece.<br /><br />A few friends are counting down the days until school starts. Can't say that I'm among them. For now, I'm happy to wallow in the brief respite of being the marBALL on the neverending marble run of life.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8606180456624000735.post-18254031987933775432009-07-09T23:16:00.005-04:002009-07-09T23:43:55.069-04:00Just call me Mooch.Recall a couple of months back when the swine flu pandemic was sweeping the country? Well, panic ensued en masse and what started out as one of those busier-than-busy weekends and weeks that can occur in the springtime when everybody schedules everything for the same three weekends, suddenly opened wide up as cancellations shut everything down. As events have been rescheduled we have had the Swine Flu Math Pentathlon tournament, the Swine Flu swim meet, and now, the Swine Flu field trip to Aquarena Springs in lovely San Marcos, Texas. This was THE field trip my little fourth grader had anticipated ALL YEAR. The bucket of gold at the end of the TAKS testing rainbow of mind-numbing worksheets. And then THEY went and canceled it on her. <br /><br />Well, we showed them and rounded up friends, booked a private educational tour under the guise of homeschoolers and hopped on the glass-bottomed boat. Who says we can't learn nothin' in the summer?<br /><br />Here is where the Mooch part comes in. CCC waved her directorial magic wand and put together <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=05zzKgfJBOQ">this record</a> of our day. Thanks!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8606180456624000735.post-36829963705076632652009-06-30T18:39:00.005-04:002009-06-30T19:16:37.625-04:00No share! Mine!"Share the Road", "Be kind to cyclists", "Thank you for not killing me with your car". I'm accustomed to seeing these and similar bumper stickers around Austin along with articles in the local paper proclaiming the rights of cyclists. On occasion I AM one of those cyclists, daring to ride the open road side-by-side with my motor vehicle friends. I just love the jokers among them who think it's funny as hell to blast their horn just about the time they overtake you. Oh, yeah. That is so HILARIOUS (insert snarky sarcastic laugh here).<br /><br />Austin is a cycling town. Whether we have Lance Armstrong to thank for that, our lovely weather, our eclectic, earth-loving population, or a city that is relatively willing to build bike lanes into a fair number of public roads I do not know. But I do know this. One need not travel far in Austin to see someone on a bike. Even a <a href="http://suburbanbubble.blogspot.com/search?q=riding+bareback">thong-wearing cyclist</a> is a common sight 'round town. (Side note to say I spied him again last week wearing a hot pink thong and towing a little trailer behind his bike...he looked so incredibly happy. And tan.)<br /><br />But here's my question. When is it too much? Too dangerous? Not just for the cyclist but for other traffic. Three reasons why I ask...<br /><br />1) As I was making a trip into the netherworld of north Austin yesterday I was driving north on a major thoroughfare traversing a wide expanse of greenbelt area on a long bridge. This bridge has no bike lanes. And yet. There in the right lane of the bridge is a cyclist, pedaling his enlarged heart out, professional-looking jersey unzipped and flapping in the 102 degree heat. Not hovering near the shoulder, but right out there in the middle of the lane. Moving along at a pretty good cycling clip of about 25 mph, I'd guess. But the rest of traffic is moving at 65. Therefore, people are having to slam on their brakes, swerve into other lanes, etc...to avoid hitting this guy.<br /><br />2) <a href="http://www.statesman.com/blogs/content/shared-gen/blogs/austin/blotter/entries/2009/06/30/police_seek_car_that_hit_cycli.html">Article</a> in today's paper. Quick story. Cyclist hit from behind, driver flees the scene. Guess who has the serious injuries?<br /><br />3) Upon leaving downtown Austin today at rush hour, on arguably one of the busiest, narrowest downtown streets (west 6th street for you Austinites), a man on a bicycle, in the far left lane (it's a one way street), just pedaling along like he doesn't have a care in the world and he doesn't even have a helmet on his melon head. Once again, cars slamming on brakes, moving haphazardly into other lanes. He's pedaling along, whistling a happy little tune in his head.<br /><br />SO, I hate to be a hater, but really. There has to be a limit. I understand they have the right to travel how they see fit. I understand they even have the right to put their own lives in serious jeopardy if they choose. I absolutely do want to be a cycling advocate. I hope I don't make any enemies of my cycling buddies with this post. But these two scenarios put dozens of people at risk, just during the brief time I was in their vicinity. Cyclists need to exercise good judgment and be good sharers too. Sometimes that might mean taking the road less traveled.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8606180456624000735.post-2642243024773997142009-06-28T23:38:00.005-04:002009-07-12T15:21:34.973-04:00Bring on the water<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOsHFE1UVMX7wOKSpzsRtxArgBzBI1AjPAMdyNXAYwGtgq66ahjjy8Gyzke784Se1QkxYgFDcq0DJgg4D5QPm9cxsdQuFxFBICUlBSj2IQaf-NEj1D3Jz1Y3y2bu9Y26FbbBQnZv7MGMaK/s1600-h/alex+psyched+name+removed.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOsHFE1UVMX7wOKSpzsRtxArgBzBI1AjPAMdyNXAYwGtgq66ahjjy8Gyzke784Se1QkxYgFDcq0DJgg4D5QPm9cxsdQuFxFBICUlBSj2IQaf-NEj1D3Jz1Y3y2bu9Y26FbbBQnZv7MGMaK/s400/alex+psyched+name+removed.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357655909562387026" border="0" /></a><br />The gods smiled upon us and we were fortunate enough to be able to escape the sweltering heat by retreating indoors for the final swim meet of the season. As seasons go, this one seemed relatively short, not too unbearable, and actually kinda fun.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOsHFE1UVMX7wOKSpzsRtxArgBzBI1AjPAMdyNXAYwGtgq66ahjjy8Gyzke784Se1QkxYgFDcq0DJgg4D5QPm9cxsdQuFxFBICUlBSj2IQaf-NEj1D3Jz1Y3y2bu9Y26FbbBQnZv7MGMaK/s1600-h/alex+psyched+name+removed.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOsHFE1UVMX7wOKSpzsRtxArgBzBI1AjPAMdyNXAYwGtgq66ahjjy8Gyzke784Se1QkxYgFDcq0DJgg4D5QPm9cxsdQuFxFBICUlBSj2IQaf-NEj1D3Jz1Y3y2bu9Y26FbbBQnZv7MGMaK/s400/alex+psyched+name+removed.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357655909562387026" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Game on.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgucPxKQnWNnoXZTNJue_3YQSxix5lHkQofhEXLjaqiIiLgI1xQKeAX8md2SKmiAiJ89T9EIcWejuqRsoH7Ur0ETyhHlNxql6NxKbQ50VvRbDQA0du49WGyHrWeJS6PLuifl_Wz0HhqB3Ra/s1600-h/smiling+with+coach+Flick.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgucPxKQnWNnoXZTNJue_3YQSxix5lHkQofhEXLjaqiIiLgI1xQKeAX8md2SKmiAiJ89T9EIcWejuqRsoH7Ur0ETyhHlNxql6NxKbQ50VvRbDQA0du49WGyHrWeJS6PLuifl_Wz0HhqB3Ra/s400/smiling+with+coach+Flick.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352591808452382498" border="0" /></a>Smiling with Coach and EC. How 'bout that green cast? Note for Big E in the future...don't break arm the day before school lets out for summer vacation.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmrYIGZBBcEejFNOXQKtseKVDU-tH5naKjARiroLbM1xNnMGxrxCVadM-o3Ld0TNic2kRRvb-Iuf-Rh-Y9vpPl7_3LuJRW-odF8WSkRbFRQMqNeoXlU41EfA2VTsAQKgX8dOlr1Qp9jpjT/s1600-h/emma+dives.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmrYIGZBBcEejFNOXQKtseKVDU-tH5naKjARiroLbM1xNnMGxrxCVadM-o3Ld0TNic2kRRvb-Iuf-Rh-Y9vpPl7_3LuJRW-odF8WSkRbFRQMqNeoXlU41EfA2VTsAQKgX8dOlr1Qp9jpjT/s400/emma+dives.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352591798467066514" border="0" /></a>Nice dive.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLjSvXaPKqVSjTX_EsxTKVhcQ_vmpsCUxNTKxnnCqAwZgKUhmTEeLKZ4P84rLXG68bptxZ6-XUQyz9Hxn2uhujSzxWoR-JdAiBbuur_vgr3lXmB6aYTslOCgwC0DqHWQBApR1z161U-vAh/s1600-h/alex+on+blocks.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLjSvXaPKqVSjTX_EsxTKVhcQ_vmpsCUxNTKxnnCqAwZgKUhmTEeLKZ4P84rLXG68bptxZ6-XUQyz9Hxn2uhujSzxWoR-JdAiBbuur_vgr3lXmB6aYTslOCgwC0DqHWQBApR1z161U-vAh/s400/alex+on+blocks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352591793513592370" border="0" /></a>Swimmers, take your mark.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Despite the humid mornings spent waiting during practice, way earlier than should be expected of a mortal trying to enjoy summer vacation, I cannot deny swim team is a fun time, even for me.<br /></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8606180456624000735.post-5946869086703579162009-06-25T22:19:00.002-04:002009-06-25T22:25:06.954-04:00Uh, yeah. It's freakin' hot.<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuwgw9WzWxK4G9AbTKbLQCYZhl1PvdoucASDSwiMgaNdaZG-yJGNmxRMLqtx0K_c0zUCBe-btUB2dsdWHvg3R_cEevOlnJJDCllhzMVjDlPCgJqtl5JTGBINjzJmuMzIzFNOOBVY-D30ZD/s1600-h/melting.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 221px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuwgw9WzWxK4G9AbTKbLQCYZhl1PvdoucASDSwiMgaNdaZG-yJGNmxRMLqtx0K_c0zUCBe-btUB2dsdWHvg3R_cEevOlnJJDCllhzMVjDlPCgJqtl5JTGBINjzJmuMzIzFNOOBVY-D30ZD/s400/melting.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351456050757946578" border="0" /></a>Bet you didn't know we're all made out of teal crayons.<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8606180456624000735.post-43753800563357967052009-06-08T12:01:00.003-04:002009-06-08T18:15:37.064-04:00Summer Kick-off<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyPaTcOLS5P1gSK-4vvagRypyqXjfX-4Ci5QsEwbpHMvOBkLd9BOS_XmwX6KwqB818bk-GBSSvFd72p-nPkoQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8606180456624000735.post-23477077817240562552009-06-05T16:51:00.004-04:002009-06-05T16:54:19.912-04:00Road Trippin'Bubble Boy is giving me a weekend furlough for good behavior....<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuzPef3o9mvBlgpluLVxkdIXYU3l9P94Dw7Ddq9paqZd8gPw0Na7I7Nt0km2ZaOkLrMDW1nsGlmTSiZ2Fix0_Xqpe0bk8vWI6xYboTG4v5SnNSH17-DqxaQY__uyp94FRlAFLKMrOe22fe/s1600-h/REO-STYX-OS-3-28-600.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuzPef3o9mvBlgpluLVxkdIXYU3l9P94Dw7Ddq9paqZd8gPw0Na7I7Nt0km2ZaOkLrMDW1nsGlmTSiZ2Fix0_Xqpe0bk8vWI6xYboTG4v5SnNSH17-DqxaQY__uyp94FRlAFLKMrOe22fe/s400/REO-STYX-OS-3-28-600.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343949362295659634" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><br />Booyah!</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8606180456624000735.post-91563463692500137992009-06-04T21:53:00.004-04:002009-06-04T22:09:39.006-04:00Off to a great start<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAdfTOX-N_w-hdPXaYl0R8A0mPlBJPYRAg_XlE3wUNB_oEREf54rfHNCMaF128kY3RbxAQD3gRrjTuPfD-kEq23cm2pzpcCkairvPpie0CDycSagmVrhHFaNNt2Ay0vh-oNT95psQuX5Ei/s1600-h/IMG_2468.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAdfTOX-N_w-hdPXaYl0R8A0mPlBJPYRAg_XlE3wUNB_oEREf54rfHNCMaF128kY3RbxAQD3gRrjTuPfD-kEq23cm2pzpcCkairvPpie0CDycSagmVrhHFaNNt2Ay0vh-oNT95psQuX5Ei/s320/IMG_2468.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343658442773281634" border="0" /></a><br />Day 1 of Summer Vacation was undeniably a huge success. SJ had the great idea for herself, CCC and me to rent the pool and invite a few friends for a private Summer Vacation Kick-off party. What a great way to throw a party! Listen up, potential parents-to-be, plan your pregnancies for a SUMMER birthday. Rent the nearest pool. Order pizzas. You can even go crazy with a box of popsicles. Bada Bing, Bada Boom, YOU'RE DONE! Pizzas, watermelon, bags and bags of potato chips and Doritos, brownies and cookies. Nearly six hours at the pool. Rock Band, painting fingernails with polka dots and stripes, a little bit of Ding, Dong, Ditch, trampolining and giggling with favorite neighbors, prank-calling a certain boy, some Brady Bunch and then a sleepover. If that doesn't get the summer started off right, I don't know what does.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWGZxoz9mBp1yytmNGmJdgcw0QXpdemQnsMQbYITu2GqwfEDpU5oho6yzlOhem8InR8NcYPiaP8gHv8QDhiLo892aeVItp4l0VqkDIPgg2xBklMjiOWOmASJwc6kUsJGbGBNiViRWgdna2/s1600-h/IMG_2460.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWGZxoz9mBp1yytmNGmJdgcw0QXpdemQnsMQbYITu2GqwfEDpU5oho6yzlOhem8InR8NcYPiaP8gHv8QDhiLo892aeVItp4l0VqkDIPgg2xBklMjiOWOmASJwc6kUsJGbGBNiViRWgdna2/s320/IMG_2460.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343658427738978002" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7LHo2goNXVzC3InI5ZuSDmFyQgjEKFFmF38KRZWn2_IJJiaAWALwFZc6W2gezas34qPSPMX6PykfTUxe06hEBmZWcT7vvP_c0_DV-47v37Mx_k_6fUZsQ72e1BhbI4qk57eQI3hJPm0Bc/s1600-h/IMG_2473.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7LHo2goNXVzC3InI5ZuSDmFyQgjEKFFmF38KRZWn2_IJJiaAWALwFZc6W2gezas34qPSPMX6PykfTUxe06hEBmZWcT7vvP_c0_DV-47v37Mx_k_6fUZsQ72e1BhbI4qk57eQI3hJPm0Bc/s320/IMG_2473.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343658436223737490" border="0" /></a>You see that right. Five girls huddled around the Boys bathroom. Hmmm.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>On to Day 2!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8606180456624000735.post-44459676696078804062009-06-03T23:05:00.003-04:002009-06-03T23:36:43.301-04:00Aaaaaaannnd.....they're OUT!What a day, what a day! The day started for the grown-ups when the doggie had some tummy troubles at 4:30am. Good morning! Doggie diarrhea, anyone? Anyone? CCC has warned me about these types of hazards and I've had a dog before, but there's just nothing like sitting in your bedroom at 4:30am, with a bucket of Oxy-clean scrubbing dog$#it out of the carpet to really make you search your soul for the tiniest scrap of doggie love. Fortunately for her, she has wormed herself into my heart and I did not banish her into the rain. But let the record show I will not make any promises about the future. She's officially on Notice.<br /><br />Bubble boy got the little ones off for their last day of fun and excitement at school, where everyday is a party (at least for the last three weeks) and we embarked on one last Date Day. Date Day included a trip to the lumber yard to scout out potential tropical hardwoods for what will soon be a deck in our backyard and lunch at The Cheesecake Factory. Spicy chipotle pasta, you're my newest friend! Date Day then had to be cut short so I could serve cake to 130+ hyperexcited, graduating 5th graders and their tear-streaked parents. Then Big E and I boogied out of school before the teachers could put on their annual Chicken-Dance-Around-the-Flagpole groove in the 90+ heat. She fell on the school stairs yesterday and did some damage to her wrist and elbow. X-rays ruled out a fracture but there was mention of a possible 'buckle'. Follow-up on Monday.<br /><br />No bone buckle was going to keep her away from the End-of-Year party for her class. They swam and ate and swam and ate and swam and ate....you get the picture. There were ice cream sandwiches, Bombsicles, and chocolate popsicles. Not to mention the brownies, chips, dip, and goldfish. And did I recall the donuts and cookies distributed during school? Oh, it was a good, good day.<br /><br />Little A's big day was yesterday. Kindergarten graduation. Party time with friends. Mommy tears. Photos coming soon. Maybe, just maybe, a video.<br /><br />So, now I guess I'm back in the blogging business. My brain capacity had reached maximum levels and there just wasn't enough bandwidth to get a coherent recollection of the day out of me at night. I expect to be freeing up some of my cerebral hard drive in the coming days. I can feel the space opening up already. We'll get caught up. And it will be like I was never gone.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8606180456624000735.post-66942697379960017912009-06-03T08:55:00.004-04:002009-06-03T09:16:55.749-04:00The end is nigh<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4KQC4D-P5ohHanKWhbgbY0FiTVIQ_D7cgXb8axXzsSqvQhaSwpKA7oi_d8IM9eiwfKrkqI3Ie5NaApvpDc0El2tdOT6IGBbXlLiR_zlRyYsMQGiN8aAF_0a4MSphQXPjJhGXfDyU3For0/s1600-h/schools_out.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4KQC4D-P5ohHanKWhbgbY0FiTVIQ_D7cgXb8axXzsSqvQhaSwpKA7oi_d8IM9eiwfKrkqI3Ie5NaApvpDc0El2tdOT6IGBbXlLiR_zlRyYsMQGiN8aAF_0a4MSphQXPjJhGXfDyU3For0/s400/schools_out.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343084950983849858" border="0" /></a><br />School's out today and while I see sibling squabbling and the inevitable cries of Excruciating Boredom in our future, I also see T-I-M-E. Sweet, luscious, free time, to be precise. And oh, will we wallow in it. Like gluttonous pigs.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8606180456624000735.post-13419339350135530332009-04-23T08:58:00.002-04:002009-04-23T09:13:12.490-04:00Happy Day, earth!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeKr8f0NztJ24g_ahbY921hadpojfjUwx9M19IW_2HGmFnm7C1L4MB7QvO1iN1QTnIKzv8Q_XJTYiMjycEm9FfFZn_eyHygv52wxhu5DinU5RS3Pi8mHWKkIOOXF5h8SBQWmuHvNlaPVZt/s1600-h/earth-day.gif"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeKr8f0NztJ24g_ahbY921hadpojfjUwx9M19IW_2HGmFnm7C1L4MB7QvO1iN1QTnIKzv8Q_XJTYiMjycEm9FfFZn_eyHygv52wxhu5DinU5RS3Pi8mHWKkIOOXF5h8SBQWmuHvNlaPVZt/s400/earth-day.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327870565208862178" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Planet Rage</span></span><br />Where: Standing in line at the mega-market....<br />Who: Two mature ladies, one apparently the other's mother. We'll call one Meany and the other Old Meany.<br />When: Earth day, 2009<br /><br />Act I, Scene 1<br /><br />Old Meany: [voice loud but quivery] What's going on with all this stuff? Is it some kind of holiday or something going on?<br /><br />Meany: [distractedly looking around] It's Earth Day.<br /><br />Old Meany: [interested] Really? What's that? I don't keep up with all that stuff...<br /><br />Meany: [barely paying attention] It's a day when we're supposed to do something nice or be aware of the environment.<br /><br />Old Meany: [voice louder and less quivery] I TELL YOU WHAT, I am SICK to DEATH of some DUMBASS somewhere telling me what to do!<br /><br />Meany: [a little less distracted, nodding enthusiastically] I know.<br /><br />Old Meany: [getting louder] I mean, who the HELL are they? Just some overeducated ASSHOLES, that's what they are.<br /><br />Meany: [sanctimoniously] Overeducated isn't what they are. STUPID. Stupid, is what they are!<br /><br />Old Meany: [starting to trail off from her rant] I mean. The Earth. Good Gawd. [Incoherent babbling]<br /><br />Cashier at grocery store: [perkily] Would you like a free fluorescent light bulb?<br /><br />Old Meany: Now why the HELL would I want THAT?<br /><br />Meany: [I didn't get all the words on this exchange but it ended with the cashier looking utterly speechless and dumbstruck and Meany pumping her arm with a....] Drill, Baby, Drill!<br /><br />Happy Earth Day.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8606180456624000735.post-56775146233210951052009-04-22T23:15:00.002-04:002009-04-22T23:41:17.134-04:00Excuse me Copper, Mr. Crime-stopperSome things will be forever burned into my wee brain, this being one of them. It's about 1:10 into the video....<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/pT_QRKfv8H4&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pT_QRKfv8H4&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br /><br />It is impossible for me to see a police car and not think of this one tiny little phrase of that song. I do not remember the rest of the song unless I hear it, I haven't seen that movie an inordinate number of times, I definitely do not have the uncanny ability that some people have to remember quotes from movies. As a matter of fact, my memory pretty much sucks for the most part. Why this particular one continues to haunt me decades later is beyond me.<br /><br />It just so happens that we are friends with a couple of coppers, and on a recent camping trip with one of these friends we were trading Ticket Stories. I recalled a particularly disheartening ticket experience a few years back and without getting into the gory details of how I was unfairly entrapped I began describing how the "cop" was hiding out of view.....<br /><br />An edgy silence swept the campsite.<br /><br />What? I was mortified. Is "cop" derogatory? The equivalent of the...the....<span style="font-style: italic;">"p" word</span> and I didn't even know it? After all these years of singing my little Dragnet goat skin pants song, how could I stop using "cop"?? I professed apologies profusely and was reassured that it was not necessarily a bad word but that I might want to use "police officer" if I were to be conversing with one who did not happen to be a friend. AND I learned the HOW of WHY police officers are sometimes called "cops" by people who don't know any better. Did you know that way, way back our law enforcement officers' badges were made of.....<br /><br />You got it. Copper.<br /><br />Who'da guessed? Now you know. You're welcome.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8606180456624000735.post-39650690329240350672009-04-22T19:02:00.005-04:002009-04-23T08:51:19.806-04:00This American IdolThe brilliance of David Sedaris is not his sardonic wit as many people may have you believe. True, at first reading, it IS his biting humor and sense of irony that jumps out, grabs you and won't let you go. He is one of the few authors that will illicit an out loud laugh (not a snicker...a REAL laugh), whether I'm listening to him read his work through my little white earphones as I push my oversized cart through Costco or as I read into the wee hours unable to put down one of his books as I try to muffle the laugh so as not to wake BB. Oh, he's definitely funny. A riotous hoot.<br /><br />But what I love about him is more than just his rollicking hilarity. It is his ability to take the mundane, the ordinary, the colorless and make it exceptional and memorable. How he uses just strings of words to so precisely convey the flavor of any given situation and elevate it to an almost tactile experience. Sometimes those situations are funny. Sometimes they're profound. He has a knack for hiding a scoop of profound underneath the funny with an occasional topping of sweet melancholy.<br /><br />He didn't<a href="http://suburbanbubble.blogspot.com/2007/04/were-boozy-friends.html"> remember his boozy friend</a>, which wasn't overly surprising, I guess. The only thing there would have been to remember is a ridiculously ridiculous woman who couldn't stop giggling. I did manage a sentence or two this time that I believe was semi-coherent if you listened carefully. My heart was racing and pounding so hard I couldn't hear my voice over the thumping. And I shook <a href="http://www.sarahbirdbooks.com/">Sarah Bird</a>'s hand. This was nothing compared to TRACEY JACKSON, who scored a hug and subsequent email exchanges. SHE does not let a pounding heart, sweating armpits and an uncontrollable case of nervous giggles verging on full-blown panic ruin her opportunities to speak to famous people like some people.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUY4jvaGKoFAe5IexMn_YHqGPKrk_1kCnW57zYHxhOmk6rBWHGlPEV0ayIpPHlpwUSxoEZWVdpv8f4gsXg1hyphenhyphen1fwox_s-kbGdS_e659c5r0VodhbHUFIjtur95LYEXXAnT96ZkZp-0XMhf/s1600-h/sedaris_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUY4jvaGKoFAe5IexMn_YHqGPKrk_1kCnW57zYHxhOmk6rBWHGlPEV0ayIpPHlpwUSxoEZWVdpv8f4gsXg1hyphenhyphen1fwox_s-kbGdS_e659c5r0VodhbHUFIjtur95LYEXXAnT96ZkZp-0XMhf/s400/sedaris_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327718497565949634" border="0" /></a><br />David's (may I call him David?) popularity continues to grow and I'm happy for him. I really am. But it was strange to have the book signing table set up beneath a 15 foot tall cross made out of crayons. Apparently, his genius has outgrown the <a href="http://www.austintheatre.org/site/PageServer?pagename=Home">Paramount</a> and he was booked at <a href="http://www.riverbend.com/">Riverbend</a>, a big-box, mega-church. Perhaps this was for the sake of irony. Yeah, I'm going to go with that.<br /><br />This growth phenomenon is a result of another reason why he's one of my favorite authors. He reaches me. A thirty-something, liberal, stay-at-home mom. Not a fiction writer creating a character from the ether with whom I can identify. But making me identify with <span style="font-style: italic;">him</span>. Seeing my own feelings and reactions or observations through his words. And it's not just me. Based on who I saw in the audience, he reaches young people, old people, in-the-middle people. Men, women, gay, not gay. Maybe even a few conservatives?<br /><br />A little research has turned up that he will be in San Antonio in June...not doing a lecture series this time but an appearance at a Hastings. San Antonio isn't that far....anybody up for a road trip?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8606180456624000735.post-37796702216674604402009-04-19T15:41:00.009-04:002009-04-19T17:58:58.743-04:002/3 + 1/3 = 1 Tri and moreThis crazy weekend started with a bang on Friday morning with me as Kindergarten teacher for an hour, straight into planning session for Spring Carnival to be held the next day, rain or shine (amidst a downpour), a Girl Scout meeting packed from start to finish with activities, wrapping up with a 10 year old girl sleepover. The poor pizza guy will probably never be the same after having been greeted by rabid, screeghing girls (screeghing = screeching + laughing). I know I won't.<br /><br />I am thankful for a gorgeous Saturday which brought dozens and hundreds (dare I say, <span style="font-style: italic;">thousands</span>?) of the community out for the school festival. So many people put countless hours of hard work into making the day a triumphant smash it would have been a shame to have it turn out less than wildly successful for any reason. Despite a few minor (and not-so-minor) glitches, it was. To say I was worn plum out by the time I got home at 9:15 would be an understatement of tremendous magnitude. BB blessed me with a scrumptious hot foot bath and The Office. Everyone needs one of him at home. Get your own. This one is MINE.<br /><br />A few hours later we awoke for the Team Toprope ladies tri. I can't imagine the amount of work that went into mapping the course, setting it all up, getting shirts, snacks, etc...SJ and PJ are great race directors and I see a potential future for them. Sadly, I had to bow out of competition due to whatever the hell I did to my foot last weekend. There had been glimmers of healing by Thursday and Friday, but any progress made was reversed by 12 hours of festival work yesterday where the pedometer I wasn't wearing would have read something like 84 miles had I been wearing it. Big E decided the water at the 1/8 mile <a href="http://www.ci.austin.tx.us/parks/bartonsprings.htm">Barton Springs</a> was too cold for her and after a mild panic attack we decided it wouldn't be right to push her in. So, she skipped that part of the tri. Ironic, since we all assumed this would be her strongest event given that she swims 1500m+, 3 or 4 days a week. Guess a heated pool makes a big difference. But who am I to judge? You didn't see ME jumping in.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6-4V_KuwqP4n4UeqadWziVT5wClxHO8y2drx5dwpE80A9eRYf1KGL2IIcIrXqxR7Xzk3wP9uxdZglIWkYaRoeAENf7yt36n5OgzrYKIIzNg6QOEaHSqc0NNMBg3qDFE2kDd5MkCg96zgb/s1600-h/emmaswimsnot.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6-4V_KuwqP4n4UeqadWziVT5wClxHO8y2drx5dwpE80A9eRYf1KGL2IIcIrXqxR7Xzk3wP9uxdZglIWkYaRoeAENf7yt36n5OgzrYKIIzNg6QOEaHSqc0NNMBg3qDFE2kDd5MkCg96zgb/s400/emmaswimsnot.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326505141803848418" border="0" /></a><br />The bike was next and we embarked on what proved to be a "challenging" ride, as described by our esteemed Race Director, PJ. How many race directors will chalk motivational words on the road as you're grunting up a hill that never ends? "Ride, DON'T walk!", "Granny Gear is GOOD!", and "Feel the burn!". Big E and I walked that particular hill. But she only needed to walk a couple of more times, and I happily joined her. My map-reading skills (or lack there-of) caused us to miss one of the turns and we took a little detour. Being along Ladybird Lake, it was very scenic and can't say that I was all that upset about it. Big E was more so but we managed to move past it and headed back to Transition 2 and out on the run.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1WxqHNSrEOO_qA9IGPZnuyXyywi16PNfCl4kgPzauhELmDClx7ijk1ubabhIerHHl13z3FNs-tky-jozmPJmELZMPXMmfJPjBfxneKOX3H07vAKGf7Odj1EcLrz9LwZIZo3XJOpHXTr0x/s1600-h/emmabikes.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1WxqHNSrEOO_qA9IGPZnuyXyywi16PNfCl4kgPzauhELmDClx7ijk1ubabhIerHHl13z3FNs-tky-jozmPJmELZMPXMmfJPjBfxneKOX3H07vAKGf7Odj1EcLrz9LwZIZo3XJOpHXTr0x/s400/emmabikes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326501906514402114" border="0" /></a><br />As mentioned before, map-reading isn't a strong suit of mine and we once again ended up missing a turn and therefore missing part of the run. Instead of a 3.4 mile loop it probably ended up being about 2. I rode beside her (my foot) as she loped along. That girl can run.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVNCs31hzwiIqB9dUP9f3BER-OekoPTY8IysKlC1BtWyYhoaPMG_0xcwaERpkCgTVffWFthvAQK93WHaUk8PS3L1KukLH1WoE6iETA8ToP-N3KnGRqaNNxnfqK6RBeP4Jna24nlJEPJBWP/s1600-h/emmaruns.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVNCs31hzwiIqB9dUP9f3BER-OekoPTY8IysKlC1BtWyYhoaPMG_0xcwaERpkCgTVffWFthvAQK93WHaUk8PS3L1KukLH1WoE6iETA8ToP-N3KnGRqaNNxnfqK6RBeP4Jna24nlJEPJBWP/s400/emmaruns.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326500193645880322" border="0" /></a><br />Little A escorted Big E over the finish. It won't be long until he's in the thick of it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Bj2q2lIsE20zpqtcKeEJgzLr-L5c1cbOzGzWe4JshnBRdgVIRD1eBtivlB821BgSduBBq45NgsZdcmTRR9WpX79Hb7w7JfjRZvZnge9-6jyDtcs0-Zb3dV6mmNZYo9KxDCQ7piAxjm9U/s1600-h/topropeladiestri.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Bj2q2lIsE20zpqtcKeEJgzLr-L5c1cbOzGzWe4JshnBRdgVIRD1eBtivlB821BgSduBBq45NgsZdcmTRR9WpX79Hb7w7JfjRZvZnge9-6jyDtcs0-Zb3dV6mmNZYo9KxDCQ7piAxjm9U/s400/topropeladiestri.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326507177599287586" border="0" /></a>Thinking back to my own 10 year old self, the thought of tackling a triathlon would have never even entered my mind. If someone HAD brought it up I would have thought they were certifiable idiots. Deranged lunatics. Triathlons are for ATHLETES and I was <span style="font-style: italic;">just a kid</span>. The thought wouldn't have been much different when I was 20. Or 30. I think of the 25 year headstart Big E has on realizing that such things are not only possible, but attainable without much more than a little effort and hard work, and imagine what she'll accomplish. Whatever it is, I think it will be truly great.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8606180456624000735.post-28513658453087713402009-04-14T09:06:00.011-04:002009-04-14T16:20:28.563-04:00SpontaneityNot a word that would usually describe me. It's not like it never happens, just that most of the time I feel most comfortable with a schedule and a plan. What we're doing, what we're going to do, when we're going to do it, how it will be accomplished, when we'll be finished and what time we need to move on to the NEXT thing. See how I make it what "WE'RE" doing and not just what "I'M" doing? There's been word that I overburden myself with these rigors and since they are the ones sharing with me I assume I must be overburdening the tellers as well.<br /><br />Last weekend's plan was a camping trip to Enchanted Rock. I've only been there one other time in lo these many years we've been in Central Texas. It was hot. That's the only real memory that has stuck with me from that visit. So Easter camping at E Rock it was to be. And then the forecast came.<br /><br />Rain!<br /><br />Oh, we do NEED the rain. Desperately. I didn't necessarily want it all over my camping stuff though. A wet dog. A wet tent. Mud in my car. I was still fresh on the tails of another camping trip and not necessarily falling over myself with anticipation of all the prep and clean-up involved amidst all the other Spring Business happening. Plus, the King Tut exhibit at the Dallas MoA only has a few more weeks in its run and this was the only weekend we'd be able to make it. Etc...etc...etc...Then an idea! Wouldn't it be great if my family (from Oklahoma) could meet us halfway and we could ALL go to King Tut? The cousins could play and swim. No cooking. No dishes. Hours of Rummikub. Two quick phone calls and a visit to hotels.com and badabing badaboom! We're all set. I couldn't believe how easily it worked out.<br /><br />Then the guilty phone call to inform half our camping partners they'd be sans the Bubbles.<br /><br />Traffic was less cooperative than the arrangements had been and after five hours we finally made it to Big D. We were staying right downtown and Little A's first comment while driving in through the tall buildings was "Skyscrapers. Whooooooooaaaaw". Imagine how Cheech would say it. Not excitedly or with thrilled amazement. Just true wonderment and reverence.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgChrffTwS0jVd4yNEQOwXzO8h-e2r_rEbyvhF2Xu5jhHmwcHhKUj6RbYKIz6kJIpbAXYXzEazEBabXKNk0gFDdhp1D0s5LXLl6ZumcMufXQyua1ez1oMj1WCajgwqiMDHauQjeYCh8M2Hf/s1600-h/photo.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgChrffTwS0jVd4yNEQOwXzO8h-e2r_rEbyvhF2Xu5jhHmwcHhKUj6RbYKIz6kJIpbAXYXzEazEBabXKNk0gFDdhp1D0s5LXLl6ZumcMufXQyua1ez1oMj1WCajgwqiMDHauQjeYCh8M2Hf/s400/photo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324540012925442162" border="0" /></a><br />The weekend was fun...we relaxed. Shopped. Visited <a href="http://www.americangirl.com/stores/location_dal.php">Heaven on Earth</a> for young girls. Ice skated. Played Rummikub where my 2009 losing streak was maintained and I somehow tweaked my foot. (Seriously. I suffered a Rummikub injury. It's inexplicable but I've been hobbling around since the Friday night game marathon). We viewed ancient Egyptian relics. The sense of disappointment was only due to my previously set high expectations. Shouldn't I know better by now? Why would one possibly expect to see one of Tut's many masks or sarcophagus' (or sarcophagi?) when visiting a Tut exhibit?<br /><br />When we got home and I read the <a href="http://rettacliff.blogspot.com/2009/04/thank-you-easter-bunny-and-camping-too.html">recap</a> of the camping weekend I was a little wistful and felt the guilt seeping back in. Then I saw CCC scaling a wall of rock and decided that all things happen for a reason and if I was overcome by a sudden wave of Spontaneity to bail on my friends it was probably my sixth sense telling me that I or one of my family would have fallen to certain death had we gone. This makes me feel a smidge less guilty.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2