First Try

Tonight we were having a special "Temple Marriage" night for our Young Women at church so to make it a real celebration, my buddies Tara and Elana came over this morning and we made Wedding Cake!  And I must say, for first timers I think we did rather well.  I did learn that when cleaning frosting smears off a cake platter, select pieces from your son's lego set can come in handy.

It was a moist yellow cake with a chocolate truffle filling and an almond/vanilla bean frosting. We finished it off with little beads around the bottom of the ribbon and Tara brought her glass temple cake topper for the finishing touch.  

Now as usually happens when three moms get together of a morning to frost cake, there were quite a few children around.  Thankfully we had lots of hands to retrieve them from banging on the neighbors glass door, dangling from monkey bars, falling in toilets, and other kid chaos.  Other wise the clever children busied themselves snitching swipes of frosting 

and making melodious music.  A bunch of toddlers on the piano--such sweet sounds.

Despite the jarring aural environment, the cake turned out well, the girls loved it, and if you want a piece--come on over.  We've got loads of extra! Thanks to Grammy for recipes and Pops for moral support!

Because of the hurry to get cake done, get our selves cleaned up, and kids ready to stay with Pops and Dad's, neither Tara or I ate any real dinner.  And let me tell you, lots of cake with 50 pounds of sugar frosting on an empty stomach makes for a crazy drive home.  Tara and I car pooled and also took one of our 12-year-old young women.  The relief of having the activity over combined with a bit of a sugar rush bought out a rather silly side of myself, err, I mean Tara.  I warned her we better be quiet or else ol' Hamilton in the back seat was sure to find out we were really LOSERS.  Tara absolutely confirmed we are losers by saying, "We're not losers.  We're RAD."  To which I replied, "Kick down, white boy!"

My Own Personal Super Hero

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PAPA!

Today is my Dad's birthday.  That man right there with the wide brimmed hat, the Pendleton wool shirt, the heavy duty leather gloves, he's my Dad.  Look close and you can see the leather case strapped to his belt carrying his pocket knife and pliers.  A knife on one hip and a baby on the other.  My own Renaissance man.  He takes a day job in the city but prefers the work of a cowboy:  riding the range with his family, the sound of aspen leaves and jostling cattle, the feel of leather and muscle beneath you, the smell of sweet sage and horse sweat.  (The joke is, as a farm boy he never knew manure smelled bad until his city cousins told him.)

My Dad was my hero from the start.  As young kids my brother and I had the most fun clopping along in his shoes and snuggling together under his heavy coat.  Anyone whose coat was big enough to hide two whole children underneath must be a super hero indeed.  Always available for a horsey ride, a goodnight song, or a game of hide-and-seek.  He never minded hiding with you when your excited giggles gave away the secret spot.  And a Daddy who could run that fast with a child on his back and throw you in the air high enough to touch the clouds had to have super powers.

Coming home late at night he would peak into my room and if I was awake, he would sit on the floor, scratch my back, and we would sing together.  The Little Green Valley, The Whaling Song, Sweet Hour of Prayer and a few other old cowboy tunes and hymns.

Growing bigger and taller meant less horsey rides and flights into the air but brought other lessons just as sweet.  He taught me how to braid thin strands of horse hair into the cracker for a bull whip, how to blow through my cupped hands to make a hooting owl sound, and how to carve my name in a tree next to his, and his father's, and his grandfather's.  He taught me which mountain berries I could eat and which would give the unlucky consumer a nasty case of the trots.  He taught me how to find the big dipper, the "W" stars, and eagle's nests.  He taught me how to run an intra-abdominal camera, how to stitch up a puncture hole, and how to use an Endo-bag:  specimen retrieval system to take out an infected gallbladder.  (I'm telling you--a Renaissance man.)

Now I'm grown (sort of at least) and have little boys of my own.  But you, Dad, are still my super hero. You have never lost your cape and mask and turned into an ordinary person.  I have yet to see you make a bad decision or treat someone unfairly.  I am better for having you as a father.  A Super Dad. And now my boys clomp around in your shoes,

 play horsey with you, 

and I sing Joseph to sleep with The Little Green Valley.

But I will let the rest of you in on a little secret.  Even super hero's have an Achilles heel.  And my Dad--he's border line obsessive compulsive about his teeth.  And a toothbrush toting John Wayne is a bit comical.  This cowboy's kryptonite:  plaque.

But the best thing about him, this super hero makes everyone else feel like one too.  Happy Birthday Dad.  I love you!  I'll meet you in a few months up in our own little green valley.

What's It Good For If You Can't Pee In It

In response to some of your comments, YES. I think peeing in the ocean is a perfectly acceptable thing to do.  I mean really, if you can't pee in it, well, I said it just above.  My problem is not with the ethical issues surrounding peeing in the ocean (do you move a standard number of feet away from the closest person, do you wait for a wave to come in, or go out, do you pretend to be just getting your hair wet, do you walk, do you stand still, does it attract or repel fish, etc.) but rather getting my children to quietly DO it.  Because nobody wants to leave a nice spot like this,

spend an hour at the de-sanding showers getting rid of this,

and scuttle through rows of beach chairs holding scantily clad, impossibly tan women just so you can  use a modern, but very damp toilet.  It is a needless waist of time and exposure to pool feet fungus.

All it really takes is a quick trip into the ocean on one of these. 

In fact this would have been a prefect time.  Covered in salt water, an obliging wave veiling the face of the offender.  It could have been so easy.

Or this.  This is even better.  A rush of water up to your waist.  The pretense of playing in the waves.  Again, so easy.

And yet, Matthew and Will both failed at their attempts (or rather my attempts to get them to). In Will's case the failure was mainly caused by fear.  These waves were bigger than any he had encountered before and he was skeptical from the start.

He was not at all excited about getting in the water and completely content to stay on dry sand and annihilate his brothers' sand castles.  

I tried explaining to him how much easier it would be to just wander out a few steps.  How much time is would save.  How inconspicuous it would be.  I was so wrong.  My dragging Will into the waves insisting he pee was not easy, did not save time, and was CERTAINLY not inconspicuous.  Instead of quietly peeing Will took up screaming at the top of his lungs, "NO, in the toilet.  In the toilet.  NO, IN THE TOILET!"  Okay, in the toilet.  And to the bathroom we went.

Matthew's issue was not so much a lack of bravery as a lack of understanding.  My instruction to run pee in the ocean did not bring tears, whimpering, or wailing.  It sent a boy running full speed to the EDGE of the ocean, and there, backside toward a crowded beach, dropping his trunks.  Of course, I caught him quickly and said unnecessarily loud, "Honey, come on now, we don't pee on the beach.  Let's go up to the bathroom," my pleasant voice hiding the annoyance behind my eyes.  After waiting a few minutes on our beach chair I returned to the ocean with him, carrying him in quite a ways and out of earshot of other bathers.  But, in all the excitement Matthew just couldn't get himself to pee.  As much as he had to standing on the dry beach 5 seconds before, once in the ocean with the freedom of a water cloak up to his middle, his giggly face and wiggly toes just couldn't relax.  

So I gave in.  We spent the time at the sand shower, traipsed through sun-bathing beauties, and braved the wet bathroom.  But, we have many more summer days at the lake and will, for sure, practice up for next year.

p.s.  I suppose I should confess, I don't have cute short brown hair nor am I a tall, beautiful red head.  Those lovely ladies are my darling mother-in-law and sister-in-law.  They were gracious enough to come on our trip with us and where great help and lots of fun!  

A spot with a view

This was my view for most of my days last week.  And, I loved it.  Give my babies some water, some sand, some rocks, some buckets, (and some floaties), and they are happy.   For HOURS! It's the most low maintenance activity around.  Of course we did have that issue with peeing in the ocean but more on that tomorrow . . . 

Now we are home and back to the grind of home improvement which why this post is already ending.  But I will be better about posting.  Come back soon to hear about my boys stripping on the beach, lots of vacationing Europeans (you know they have very loose standards when it comes to beach wear), Will's connection with the big bad wolf, and of course, more tile woes. Because what would a tile project in my house be if it didn't bring with it some drama.

TTFN   

And welcome back to my blagapalooza friends and sorry I couldn't be with you.  I'm already enjoying reading all about it!   

Penitent

I'm sorry.  I'm still here.  Please still visit.  Please come and read again.  Please accept me back, prodigal blogger that I am.  I don't mean to have neglected you.  But the in-laws are here.   They are finishing our basement.  And somehow, it seemed very wrong of me to leave them, broken backs lifting, bloody knuckles hammering, to go knoodling with my interpeeps.  (Although I had no problem leaving them to go to the salon.  Ahhhh, 2 hours of scalp massaging bliss. Priorities you know.)  While they have been doing all the actual work, I have still been kept very busy with frequent trips into the bowels of the house to give important counsel like, put those light switches here.  No, put them there.  I would like two can lights here.  Never mind, make that three sconces.  The smaller vanity sounds fine.  Actually how about the bigger one--no, the smaller one.  Cubbies would be great.  But maybe a closet. Can I have a stage?  A climbing wall?  Swings?  A monkey gym?  Can we just make this a gorilla habitat down here? Etc.  I'm sure Grammy and Pops are overjoyed every time they hear my stealthy tread coming down the stairs to deliver more confusing and preposterous plans.   And I'm fairly positive my leaving with a positive nod and "I'll be back later to check on your work" doesn't help.  (there's a movie quote for you!)  In all honesty, they have been working very hard and I have tried my best to not be an exasperating costumer.  Thankfully, we are all, Chris, boys, Grandparents, and I, taking a break later this week and traveling south while the dry-wallers come and do their job.  So if I go on hiatus again, it's legitimate family time.

One of Chris' friends has been asking for pics of the ongoing basement.  The only ones I have just show only partial framing and it is intensely boring to look because you can't tell what's what.  Here is one decent picture. 

 It shows what will be a craft area for the kids (where the slide is sitting--yes, that's a slide.  He He.  More about that in later posts) with a craft/work area for me behind it and a storage room behind that.  My area will have a nice window looking out onto the kids area so I can go in my room, shut the door to keep busy boys out, but still be able to see what they are doing and holler commands like, "Matthew, don't swing Will by the head," and "Joseph, let's not drink that glue," etc.

Sorry I only have one, thanks for your patience Brad!  Currently the framing, electrical, and plumbing are all done and the dry-wallers arrive tomorrow morning.  Once that is done the photos will make more sense and I will post some more.  If I can get down there in the morning before the workers I will also try to get some pics.  And if you, dear reader, will forgive my blogging fast and come again, I'll favor you with a little remodeling photo update. 

Drum Roll Please--bdddddddddddddd

What is it?  After this week and a half or more of absence what do I have for you.  Finally . . . I have pictures of our completed home projects!  So, without further ado, I present to you:

4 very small and not very extreme HOME MAKEOVERS!

these are the little things we have done since living here

(a disclaimer:  I am having severe formatting issues with my blog publisher--so please don't mind the fact that I am showing only four projects, but the numbers list 10 or so)

1. The powder room:  Please don't think worse of me.  I'm usually not one for wall paper--BUT--I'm a sucker for toile.  I love it.  So this small powder room off the kitchen has red toile wall paper and white bead board.  I think the toile gives you something nice to look at and you can imagine stories about the people in it while you're sittin' around in there. Even if you're having a bad day it reminds you--at least you're not washin' your clothes in the river like that French peasant.  Though she does look so happy doing it . . 
2. The kitchen back-splash:  This was our first tiling project.  I learned lots of things.  For instance:  if you are tiling around electrical outlets, and therefore need to turn off the electricity in that part of the house, try your very best to finish before dark.  Otherwise you will be running around trying to find an extension cord to run electricity from a different part of the house to a small lamp that will cast a light so lean you will be squinting at your work from every direction and contorting your body every which way to avoid casting a shadow.  It turned out decent in the end.
3. Here's a close up of the slate we used.  I fell in love with all the different colors and the few sparkly pieces.  Everyone can use a little sparkly!
4. The boys bathroom:  More than once in my life when taking on new projects for the first time, I read all the directions, am meticulous about following them, attend to every detail, and religiously watch and wait over it, willing it to turn out right.  And it does. Unfortunately, more often than not, the SECOND time I try to do the same thing, I am far to confident in my previous abilities, throw caution to the wind, don't pay attention, and the entire thing is botched, tremendous amounts of time are waisted, and people fall ill (i.e. Chris and my second batch of hollandaise sauce).  This tile floor was hollandaise sauce #2 all over again.  After hours, days, weeks, and months of grouting, grouting, and grouting, and drilling, drilling, drilling the grout out, and grouting, grouting, grouting some more we finally finished.  We added some bead board (I love bead board) and threw up some paint.  Here's what we got.
5. A close up of the tile.  I love the watery wash of blue.  
6. (Another noteworthy lesson:  if you should pull your toilet up and put it in the tub to tile around the plumbing hole, and then haul the toilet out of the shower so a visiting guest can bathe, don't set the toilet nicely on the tiled floor next to, but NOT on top of, it's original plumbing hole post.  This sends a false message to neighbor children that the toilet works, and they might unknowingly use it.  For #2.  And you will be left with a smelly mess.)
7. The master bathroom:  This was all Chris' idea but I did get to help pick out the tile. Here's the before shot.
8. Not bad.  Painted walls.  Linoleum floor.  Here's the after.
9. Travertine floors, wall, and tub front.  Onyx shelf.  And let me tell you--12 inch square tiles are SO MUCH easier to grout the 1 inch square tiles.
10. The best part--the little brick shaped onyx tiles that cover the shelf are packed so tight they don't really need any grouting.  I love that.
11. And their yummy buttery color lifts my spirits each morning.  Anything buttery lifts my spirits in the morning--or any other time of the day.

So there you have it.  Our little home improvements.  Now for our BIG home improvement. The reason I have been gone the past bit is because of the new project coming our way.  I love to be organized but am not the best at staying organized.  This past week I have been de-cluttering, organizing, and throwing away hoards of stuff in preparation for my in-laws to arrive (they should be here within the hour).  They are going to stay with us for the next month or so and this gave me great incentive to do a bit of long needed "spring cleaning."  As for the reason they are coming . . . to take on a project much to big and much to difficult for Chris and I . . . the basement.  Yes, they are coming to finish the basement and I tell you, this mother of three young boys is EXCITED!

Don't worry

Don't worry.  More is coming.  I have been doing a little spring cleaning.  More later (but sooner than later).  Much sooner.

Words from the Boys

Will:

While watching some Irish dancers Will looked enthralled so I asked him, 

"Will, do you want to dance like that?"

"Yeah.  I want to wear one of those fancy dwesses."

Matthew:

Yesterday morning at 5:00 A.M., the alarm on Chris' blackberry went off playing every body's favorite happy song "The Entertainer."  Unfortunately there are other things besides Chris' blackberry that use that song as a mascot and Matthew, who happened to be in bed with us, sat bolt upright proclaiming

"The Ice Cream Man!"

I'm sorry buddy.  It's 5 a.m., pitch black, and a blisteringly cold March morning with 2 feet of residual snow still outside.  It's not the ice cream man.  I swear.

But just in case, here's two bucks.  Hop on out there in your skivvies and bring me back a dreamsicle! 

Ready for the lamb

March's LION has been in full swing here.  A little photographic history of the past week for your viewing pleasure.

What I've Been Doing With My Free Time

OR

Why My Back Aches Like I'm 89

(and my Arms, and my Legs)

(and why my hands are cracked and bleeding)

(not that I'm complaining about any of it)

(it was really a boat load of fun)

(several boat loads)

This is how it started.  ICE STORM.  Didn't get any good pictures of it but the next morning I started to shovel the inch or so of snow off the driveway only to find another solid inch below it of ice.  Nice.  Oh well, it will surely warm up soon and melt that ice away.

Don't count on it.  Before the ice could melt the snow came.  With a furry.  Lots of snow and lots of wind made fore huge drifts.  Here's me trying to get a picture of the enormous drifts on the deck.  Unfortunately I couldn't open the back door and my night time flash glared against it. We'll just pretend it's a really cool artsy picture.  

This is why I couldn't open the back door.

We made a valiant effort to dig ourselves out the next morning and with a little help from Ben we did it.  Although we were up bright and early shoveling, since school was cancelled, the city plows all allotted to spend the morning at Starbucks enjoying cozy hot beverages and swapping stories about how to best block in freshly cleared driveways with mounds of frozen snow and ice.  Needless to say, for anyone who ventured out, clearing the driveway was the least of the problems.  Our car did take a short trip (thankfully with another driver) and came home with wheels looking like this.

She did a good job though, valiantly plowing her own trail through the snow and safely transporting her passengers to and from work.  When the wind died down the next day and the sun peeked out the kids couldn't wait to play.

Just so you're not wondering, we do not keep our mailboxes on the ground.  Matthew found snow angels much easier when you just have to lean back a few inches.

And a nice little lick of snow is a cinch when it's already at lip level.

Matthew conquered the biggest mountain and planted his flag on behalf of stir-crazy-5-year-olds everywhere. 

And Joseph pattered around trying not to slip in his snow suit.

A fun snow day but luckily this only happens once a year or so.  And lucky I have good friends.  And food storage.

LONG {but not LOST} FRIEND

It's Friday evening and I am blogging.  No, nothing better to do.  Kids are asleep and due to nasty nasty winter storms, hubby is stuck in Chicago.  

I do have one other thing I could be doing.  One of my oldest friends has been wanting to get together.  Nagging at me for some time actually, to hang out, spend some quality time.  But the truth is, I hate to say it, but, um, I'm getting a little tired of this friend.  

{Don't worry, this friend doesn't read my blog, I promise.}  

I'm sure you all have a friend like Miss "D."  It's a classic high maintenance relationship. We'll go a few days without communicating, I'll think she has gained some self-sufficiency, and then, when I'm not even paying attention.  SHA-ZAM!  There's Miss D.  Out of nowhere, in my face, needy, involving me in problems I want nothing to do with.  

{I tell you, she has got more dirt going on than anyone else I know.}

I know I should have a more "Christ-like" attitude.  If I were a better person I would happily clean up the problem, tidy her issues, help her get organized, and send her on her way but I'm starting to get resentful.  If it's not one thing it's another--there was that accident at school, the gardening mishap, that whole mud problem, and just loads and loads of crap.  

Even if we aren't talking, just enjoying a movie, I can tell Miss D is not happy.  I feel the vibes-- Quit watching that show.  Pay attention to me.  I'm here.  Pick me!  Choose me!

{Ahhhh!  Is there no respite from Miss D!}

The truth is:  No.  There is no respite from Miss D.  In fact, she's here right now.  In the kitchen. She's spread her untidy self all over my counter in her passive-aggressive way of silently yelling at me, 

"HERE I AM!  THERE'S NO WAY YOUR WALKING PAST ME AGAIN!"     

Oh well, I suppose now's as good a time as any to face the beast.  And I guess now that you know all about her I should formally introduce you.  Here she is.  

Miss Dirt E. Klose

{If she ever comes knocking at your door, don't let her in.}

Odds and Ends

A few bits and pieces:

1. Yesterday it was a blessed 65 degrees here.  We went to the zoo and roamed in nothing but our shirtsleeves and had a fantastic time of it.  Lovely.  
2. Today there has been more than a 30 degree drop--complete with blazing winds and freezing rain.  Lovely.
3. This is the view out my windows.  No, those aren't specialty antique glass window panes.  That's ice.  Yes, my house is currently covered in an ice coating.  Good thing we already went to the grocery.
4. I realized I never actually answered my valentines trip geography question.  We did in fact visit Amsterdam and congrats to all of you who guessed correctly!  For trivia's sake, we stayed in the Hotel Pulitzer (payed for by the firm) which is the hotel where George Clooney and his gang of thieves stay in "Ocean's 12."  I felt a good knowing Messrs. Clooney, Pit, and Damon also roamed those same curving corridors.  (I will never wash the soles of my shoes again . . .)
5. Staying at a swanky hotel sometimes gives the wrong impression.  Sometimes people forget that certain other people might only be staying at said swanky hotel because "work" is paying for it, their own measly wallets being far too light.  This exact assumption led to a somewhat embarrassing/awkward moment at the diamond factory--more on that later.
6. When leaving a home-drawn map of all the important stuff for your mother-in-law while you go out of town, the fact that you included all your friends' houses, Wal-Mart, Target, Wendy's, McDonalds, preschool, the Library, the grocery store, the nature center, and Cheesecake Factory will not make up for the fact that you forgot to include the one place she needed to get to in a hurry . . . the hospital.
7. The Emergency Room  (or:  I'm so very sorry, Grammy).  Upon making it back to U.S. soil after our trip we made the requisite call home to say we've landed, we're okay, we'll be home in a couple hours (because of Chris' work we had flown out of a different city).  Although our morning on the plane had gone by without incident, back at the ranch things were not quite so calm.  Earlier that day while sliding off the counter, Matthew had slammed his chin and bit his tongue fairly severely leaving a nice gash right across the middle of his tongue.  Luckily Grammy called Tara, who is a dental hygenist (and married to a dentist).  Tara confirmed it was a very bad slice and was nice enough to tend the other boys while Grammy took little Moo to the E.R.  The E.R. doc wanted to stitch him up then and there but being a mouth injury it required sedation and they couldn't do that without talking with us, the parents, who were lounging on the plane and unreachable.  Once they got the bleeding under control they allowed Grammy to take him home to await our phone call.  So we got the news and spent the next 2 hours while driving home on the phone with various doctors and dentists trying to figure out what to do.  After many calls and various opinions, the E.R. doc said it wouldn't hurt to wait until morning, take Matthew to an oral surgeon, and go from there.  We did just that and thankfully, although it looked like the devil, the oral surgeon said it would probably be fine without stitches.  Relief.  For me at least.  I wasn't worried about the actual stitches but was not looking forward to the sedation.  I have been surprised how fast it has healed.  Grammy said right after it happened the inner muscle swelled quite a bit and was pushing out of the gash like a mushroom.  Blaaaah.  I took an early picture but I think it is too gross to actually post.  Here's what it look like now.  
   
   Matthew was explaining to one of his friends about it:  "Yeah, I had to eat soft foods for a couple days but then Mom got me back to normal so I could have nuggets and fries."  Oh yes, what would we do without nuggets and fries.  Thank heavens! 

Old Jokes

I just went to the movies.  And for the sole reason of blogging it and providing a laugh for a dear old friend . . . I hid a water bottle down the sleeve of my coat.  Here's to you, Friend!  Hope it gives you a chuckle on this Friday evening!

Not dead but almost

I've been gone a bit, I know.  And I was gone a bit before my last post as well.  But don't worry, this hiatus was not near as fun as the last one.  Since I got back from my little over seas excursion until now we've had the flu, everyone except for Matthew.  It cycled slowly from person to person bringing a day of throw-up, a day of recuperation, a day of throw-up, a day of recup, a day of throw-up . . .  Even Daddy got it and had to suffer through another flight back to Amsterdam with a week tummy and achy body.  At least the rest of us were home.  It caught me by surprise, we rarely get sick.  Only one of the boys has ever been on antibiotics.  We get the usually runny noses and colds but that's about it.  I wasn't ready for this.  And I'm sure you all know babies have it the hardest.  The puke confuses and scares them, they don't now how to hold still and lean over a bucket, they can't tell you when it's coming, etc.  

I was secretly proud of my pioneer like physique.  I wouldn't characterize myself as some one with a "delicate constitution."  I'm pretty tuff.  But this put me out.  And in the middle of a snow storm.  I was able to haul myself off the couch long enough to shovel the drive way though.  Take that, Pioneers!  (But I did have on my super warm Lands End boots, and my super warm Columbia coat, and when I was done I went into my super warm house and had some super nice hot chocolate, so I guess I have nothing on them.)  But then I got dizzy and had to lay down.  

But things are looking up and we are on the mend.  The other excitement dealt with emergency room injuries--but more on that later.

Where in the world

I have returned from a glorious Valentines weekend with the husband.  All the traveling made for not as much sleep as I was hoping but it was well worth it.  So, where was I this weekend? Here are a few hints.  

We reached our destination at around 5:30 a.m. local time.  We went straight to the airport hotel where Chris took a shower, changed his clothes, and left for a meeting.  Poor him.  I changed my clothes, climbed into the bed, and slept for 5 hours.  Lucky me (although this would later come back to haunt me when I tried to go to sleep that night).  I woke up around noon, got myself cleaned up, checked out of that hotel, and took a taxi to another hotel down in the city (and paid for by the firm so I don't mind saying-- it was NICE).  I love traveling on expense.  After that I had several hours to myself so I grabbed my coat and headed outside to wander some streets that looked like this.

And cross over some lovely canals that looked like this.

And pass the window of a small shop selling men's shoes that looked like this.  You know, in case any of your men are in need of a pair.

This is a very, uh, friendly, city.

And every one here rides bikes.  Old picturesque bikes.  

They ride with friends sitting across the book holder bar over the back wheel, or babies in a small seat in front, or a small seat in back, or both.  Or bikes with little carts on the front to hold piles of stuff, or a dog, or a couple of toddlers, or all three.  It all looked very romantic. And cold. 

On Saturday we visited some art museums, then took in the diamond factory, and finished at the flower market. 

This is just one stall along a street overflowing with similar little shops.  All selling cut flowers, potted plants, dried flowers, and heaps and heaps of loose bulbs in any type you could wish for. Of course, if flowers aren't your thing they also have this.

Like I said, it's a very friendly city.  And if your concerned about packaging they also sell it in cans.

We decided against buying anything.  The exchange rate just kills you.

We finished up the day with more wandering down fascinating streets and a quiet dinner for two.  Thanks for a perfect Valentines, Honey!

It was a memorable trip to be sure.  Unfortunately, after such a whimsical weekend, reality thrust itself back into the spotlight as soon as our plane wheels hit U.S. soil.  But more on that later.  As for now, any guesses on our 2008 Valentines hot spot?!

Where have I been and where will I be

I know this is my first post in a week.  My apologies.  Chris has to go on a business trip this weekend and my valentines surprise was getting to accompany him.  He arranged to have his mother come watch the boys, a car to pick me up, and all the other important details.  I say this to explain where I have been.  It is a great surprise to be sure but I have only had a couple days to prepare my children life without me for a few days (they'll be fine), prepare myself for life without them for a few days (do I have any clothes that don't scream MOTHER OF THREE MONKEYS), and to prepare this house so someone else can run it for a few days.  And I'll admit it, I have issues leaving the children although I can't discuss it here for fear of jinxing myself. I'm sure everyone has their opinions but it is what it is.  I have issues.  So the past couple days I have vacillated between wild moments of productive mania and a stress induced catatonic state. Once I get on the plane I think I'll be fine and Grammy, if there is no clean underwear for the boys I'm sorry and if they are in the same clothes I left in them when I get back that's okay.  I'm just happy you are coming.  

So that's where I've been.  

Your job is to guess where I'll be tomorrow . . .clues will be coming shortly. . .

Ahh, and here I am blogging when there are toilets to clean.  Gotta go.

Lifted From the Depths

It too rainy to play outside.  Even if it wasn't raining it's too cold to go outside.  Joseph is too sick to take anywhere like the library or Target.  I'm stuck inside reading Pioneer Woman, wishing I lived on a cattle ranch, and saying things to the boys like, "Hey, let's not scratch our weenies with our toothbrushes, okay."  

Luckily Shelly just called.  Her husbands coming home early and she wants to grab a movie and bring it over here!  Thanks for saving my Wednesday!

A little something I forgot

Just in case I suddenly disappear never to be heard from again . . . it's Will's fault.  He keeps threatening to turn me into an English Muffin.

And if Matthew disappears it's because his fervent wish that Jesus will come down and turn him into a Gila Monster has been granted.

Review

Here's how my last week's list turned out:

new pajamas: check

Matthew/Will's drapes:  check

(thanks to Bob for tools and Ben for labor)

Joseph's valance:  check

unfortunately while I was working on this

Matthew was working on this

long live home improvement

 

Dry Cleaning:  check

Rebate cards:  check

Young Women's:  check

Will to Dr:  check

Milk:  got some

Blog:  your readin' it!

Laundry:  check, check, checking, checking . . .

The basement with it's food storage, shelving needs, and clutter will have to wait.

And the tile, well, what would I have hanging over me if not for the tile.  One last sealing and we'll be done.  Just.  You.  Wait!   (ha ha ha Henry Higgins)