When All Else Fails . . .

... rely on someone else for ideas on how to keep this blog going.

I follow She Just Walks Around With It, who, I am happy to report (if only for my own consolation), has also been a little slow on the updating of the posts (granted, she has two kids, one of whom is a newborn). Anyway, this month, she was inspired by Fat Mum Slim to do a photo-of-the-day post on her blog. I too have decided to join in on this idea, albeit a few days late (surprise, surprise).*

[*Ed Note: I started this post on March 3 and tried to continue it on March 4. But I realized that a post all about photos would be a bit of a chore, since it just so happens that I accidentally deleted all my photos last month. So before I can finish the post, I have to scrounge up photos by stealing them off Mr. J's computer, Picasa, my phone, Snapfish, Facebook, and anywhere else I can get them. Then, on March 5, I came downstairs to start work, and EEK, my Mac wouldn't start. No fan. No Mac bingbong noise. No nothing. So off to MacLife I went. Now, more than a week later, I have my Mac back, better, stronger, faster ... but still no pictures. Time to scrounge together those photos so I can finally finish this post before the photo-a-day month ends. Now back to your regularly scheduled programming.]

So without anymore further ado, my photos of the day(s):

March 1 -- Up, which happens to be one of Mr. J's favorite movies, so I chose his niece flying through the air during the Kite Festival at Bondi Beach (at least I think that's when this was taken).

March 2 -- Fruit: OK so there isn't any fruit right now. But these vineyards at Bittner Winery produced some mighty tasty wines, which we enjoyed during our 2nd Annual Post-Thanksgiving Snake River Winery tour ... which you would already know something about if I were ever to update this blog with our daily events.


March 3 -- Neighborhood: Mr. J, cruising the 'hood. Nuff said.


March 4 -- Bedside: This one was a stretch. If I actually took the time to charge the camera battery to go upstairs and take a shot of my bedside table, this post would never be done. So instead, it's me inside bed, taken after a flight from the US to Australia (that is my excuse for the ridiculously red eyes, and I am sticking to it).


March 5 -- A Smile: This photo will make my laugh until the day I die. My two darling nieces were both smiling and posing nicely for this photo, but as luck would have it, as I "clicked" the shutter on my phone, Miss Ella swung the umbrella bit, smacking Megan in the back of the head. Purely by accident. Of course. Can't you just tell by her innocent expression?


Since I am so far behind, I am going to do five photos a day until I catch up. If my math is right, which it probably isn't, I may be able to get these all in before March 31.

So much to do

I am so swamped with work.

So, of course, I am procrastinating by reading blogs, paying bills (boo!), depositing money (yay!), catching up on emails, and contemplating cleaning house.

Deadlines, schmedlines. That's what 3 a.m. is for.

It's raining ... again. But I am not complaining. At least the 24-hour sustained hurricane-force winds have subsided. Everything is starting to bud, which makes me so very excited. The lilacs, the pear trees, our little apple tree, the elm and the ash, the maples. Pretty, pretty. And the tiny little crocuses. Croci? Or at least that's what I think they are. I don't even remember them from last year. More pretty, pretty; all yellow and purple. Hooray for spring--even if snow is in the forecast. I'll take what I can get.

I had a great post about sense memories all made up in my head the other day. But now I can't remember half of it. I really need to get a little notebook or voice recorder or something. When it all comes back to me, I'll get back in here.

For now, procrastination time is over. Time to focus on the Opportunity Finance Network financial report.

Ugh ... is it any wonder I'm procrastinating??

Date Night

Technically, Mr. J does not believe in Date Night, which is really neither here nor there for this tale. But Sunday night, whether or not he cares to admit it, we went on a date.

After a 5-hour whirlwind of cleaning, during which I completed only 1.5 rooms (though the baseboards and fridge are now spotless), I was D-O-N-E with this house. And there was no way I was going to cook anything in my oven, mainly because it was sprayed top to bottom with stinky, fume-y oven cleaner. What had gotten me through much of my cleaning frenzy (which really only happens once a year, so I know to go with it when it hits) was the one sentence Mr. J had mentioned in passing while I was down on my knees, breathing in bleach, trying to get the high-velocity mud splatter off the walls (dang dogs): "We should go to Red Feather tonight."

In thanks for watching their pooch Roxie, our good friends gave us a super-generous gift certificate to one of the nicer restaurants in town. Thoughts of the Feather's tasty, unique cocktails and even tastier lamb ribs were what kept me going through three mops of the disgustingly dirty living room floor (where I was able to create an entire new life form from the piles of dog hair discovered under the furniture and behind the speakers).

So, by 5:30, even though I wasn't quite done with the kitchen, I declared that I had had enough. I was also starting to hallucinate, thanks to the lovely mixture of bleach, vinegar, goo-be-gone, and oven cleaner. I joked that maybe we should just stay in, as cooking a meal might help dissipate some of the fumes. Mr. J replied, "OK, if that's what you want."

Um ... Major Fail on his part.

He then came to his senses, after hearing me mutter and swear over the fact that I had mopped the kitchen floor four times and was still pulling up mud and dog hair, and said, "I think we should probably get you out of this house."

Yes.

So off we went, arm in arm through the cool, fresh, bleach-free air, to the sanctuary that is Red Feather.

Sadly they were out of the lamb riblets (NOOO!). So instead we ordered the spicy sticky wings. No buffalo wings, these. They were full chicken wings covered in the most amazingly sticky, delicious garlicky sauce. Literally finger-lickin' good. Then onto their infamous spicy lamb burger for Mr. J and the mushroom-stuffed chicken for me. I chose poorly, but that's because it had been so long since I'd been out for a nice dinner, I had forgotten my cardinal rule: "Never order a chicken dish, unless you are in an Asian or Mexican restaurant." So that was my fault.

But then came dessert. We were both completely satisfied with our meal, but the folks at the table behind us and the waitress both recommended the beignets with hot butterscotch sauce. And let me tell you ... if you are ever in Boise, even just passing through, go to Red Feather and order yourself a plate of these little powdered-sugar-coated pieces of nirvana. And the sauce? To die for!! After polishing off the hot-from-the-frying-oil beignets, we still had half a cup of sauce. Mr. J was sopping it up with his finger, while I was trying to eat it with a fork (we are so "couth"). Our lovely waitress, noticing our dilemma, dropped off two soup spoons and mentioned, "These will help." Apparently she is an expert on how best to eat butterscotch sauce. I threatened to lick the crumbs off the table, but Mr. J gave me a look that said it might be a bit over the top, though I could tell he was seriously considering it as well. Mmmm-mmmm.

When it came time for the bill, our lovely waitress wished us a happy birthday (I'm still not sure if she thought it was our birthday. Perhaps it was so obvious that we are the type of folks who never go out for a nice dinner except for on super special occasions. Who knows.) and thanked us for being such pleasant guests on what I guess was a really crappy night for her. And in thanks, we got our beignets free! Who could be rude to this beautiful waitress of ours? Silly them! And in return, we gave her a whopping big tip (and still have $30 left on our gift certificate ... BONUS!).

On the way home, we by the capitol building, only to find a security guard stomping in the snow. We could tell he was writing something with his feet. I was sure it was something along the lines of "F-U, Mr. Governor." I mean, that's what disgruntled security guards do when they are bored and alone in the freezing cold, right? I didn't want to stop and stare. But Mr. J yelled out to the guy, "So, are you Robinson?" Because that, in fact, is what the guy was writing. Mr. Security Guard laughed with glee and asked, "You can read this? That's great!!" Apparently, his boss, named Robinson, was sitting in the security room, monitoring the cameras, and this guy was writing a little "hello." It just cracked me up and made me happy that he actually seemed to be a nice (albeit utterly bored) guy without any angry hangups, at least not that night.

Then again, maybe this was just an absolutely normal thing to see and I was just high on sugar and butterscotch.

I Love Fall

[Sung to the tune of Oscar the Grouch's I Love Trash, which my ex-boyfriend's computer would sing every time he sent something to the trash, which I still want to set up for my computer because it would just make me smile [and might even inspire me to clean out some of my long-neglected, much-ignored folders].)

Anyway, I know I have said it before, but I so love fall. I don't think the novelty of riding my bike to the grocery store or to meet a friend for coffee or to get some exercise on the hills almost in my backyard or to stumble home from a night on the town will ever wear off. It's been over a year, and I still get a thrill of cruising home with groceries in my basket, breathing in the crisp air, and hearing the crunch of leaves under my wheels. I haven't driven my car (or been in a car) since last week some time, I think. I may not be able to save the world with all this riding, but I love it. Good for the soul, indeed.

Of course, when I do get in my car, I am completely not ready for it. Just driving to the mall puts me in a stinky mood, what with all the "traffic" and "crazy drivers" (not to mention that I hate the mall). Keep in mind, I used to drive an hour each way, every workday, in San Francisco traffic for years. And now Boise "traffic" gives me road rage. My how times have changed.

Now I'm off to bake some (gluten-free) biscuits and cook up a pot of wild mushroom soup.

I love days off almost as much as I love fall (even if a day off means no work, which means no income for today).

Emotional Roller Coaster

Last night, after a absolutely divine seafood dinner with friends (probably the best seafood I have had since moving to Boise ... not exactly known for its fresh ocean catch of the day), I came home and caught up on blogging, Facebook, emails, etc., before hitting the hay.

Over at Balls to the Wall, I found a YouTube video that had me laughing at first but then quickly led to a full-on meltdown cry that lasted a good 15 minutes. If you have a few minutes, check it out. It's actually very empowering in the end, but it touched a nerve so deep down inside me and resonated with that whole weird, stupid self-doubt issue I've been dealing with of late (well, forever, really). I am going to print out the last line from the video and post it in big, huge letters right in front of my desk.

"The word pretty is unworthy of everything you will be."

Words to live by, indeed.

Then, another friend posted a link from Facebook to Damn You Auto Correct!, where I proceeded to laugh until I cried. Side-splitting, saliva-spluttering, tears-streaming-down-my-cheeks laughter. Quite the needed break after the emotional demons brought on by the video.

What a night! But sometimes you just have to let it all out--the good with the bad.

Rainy Day Recipes

The rain has been coming down all morning, including during that heavenly extra hour of sleep!

After a leisurely start to the day with coffee and donuts at the Kramerstein's and then more coffee at the Mitchell's, we are back at home, planning how to spend the drizzly afternoon.

And this is what I've decided:

Green Tomato Relish, recipe and photo courtesy of Farmgirl Fare

And Green Apple Butternut Squash Soup, recipe and photo courtesy of Phoo-d.com

Plus a few hours to finish up the work project from hell and an hour at the gym to work off a portion of last night's fantabulous supper club dinner. Maybe followed by some knitting on the never-ending baby blanket project.

Not bad for a lazy Sunday afternoon!

Life and Stuff

I think there is a cosmic message out there, trying to get through to me. Blogs I read, posts on Facebook I see, movies I watch, and books I read all seem to have a theme of live life and enjoy. There is all sorts of crazy crap going on in this little world of ours. It's downright overwhelming, not to mention frightening. And it is so easy to get caught up in it all and to feel weighted down with woes of "How will we ever get through all this?"

But thanks to that cosmic message (plus a little pushing and prodding from Mr. J), I am slowly beginning to remember that there isn't much I can do about anything on a global scale.

What I can do is live the best life possible in my own little world and hope that it has the butterfly effect on those around me, which in turn works on those around them, and slowly makes its way around the world.

Of course, not having CNN or Fox or MSNBC in the house makes this goal all the more realizable.

So after my brief relapse into whining and moaning, courtesy of Las Vegas Airport, I am back to working on my don't-sweat-the-small-stuff attitude and my "look for the good things in everyday life" goal.

Today's good things so far: Walking with Mr. J and The Dog downtown to grab a 99-cent cafe au lait from Cafe de Paris; checking the PO box to find a check (yay!); running into a neighbor and chatting about river trips for 15 minutes, while our dogs lazed about in the shade; meeting another neighbor and getting lupine and spinach seedlings from her garden, as well as some basil starts; doing a walkabout through our own yard, planning where to plant the seedlings and what other things we want to do this weekend.

All in all, not a bad start to a Thursday!

Life's a Beach

Aaaah, a week in the Outer Banks with most of those I love best. I am utterly relaxed and happy, but also so thrilled to be going home tomorrow. I miss Mr. J and The Dog terribly! The trip would have been a totally different experience with him (Mr. J, that is). He's absolutely tireless when it comes to playing with three beautiful, but clingy, nieces in the pool, and he would have been so patient and calm with them in the ocean.

Lil' Sis and her gorgeous family

But he was in my heart and my mind the entire trip, and it was his presence that kept me calm and cool on Day 3 or 4, when everyone was a little overtired (especially me) and sensitive to the quirks in others that drive us a little batty.

And maybe this is a sign that I am finally growing up. From Mr. J, I have (slowly) learned to smile through the little annoyances, laugh away the occasional snarky comments, keep my mouth shut regarding my sister's sometimes odd relationship with her husband, and mainly not sweat the small stuff. Now I just need to remember this lesson when I get home and apply it to my own relationship. (See Whimsy's post today, as it perfectly encapsulates the rough treatment I give my own husband more often than I would ever care to admit.)

And miracle of miracles, the trip was without a major blowup or storming off to separate corners -- and I'm not talking about outbursts between the kids. I love my sister dearly. Growing up, we were like best friends. But we are completely different people in many respects (obviously), and I think I am finally realizing that that is OK.

It's only taken me 38 years.

Things I Like

The other day we covered two things I don't like.

So I'll balance it out with two things I do like.

One is a given: The Dog. When Mr. J is out of town, The Dog will treat me as the Alpha Dog, which basically means he'll give me the big hug when I walk in the door. I love it! When Mr. J is in town, I don't even get a second glance, though he does seem to like the group hug. But when it's just me, I am the queen bee and I get all the lovin'. Who wouldn't love this face:


The other is a special treat for today. Our fridge is bare. All we have are some scratched up river beers, a ton of oranges and grapefruits (tonight's project: fresh juice), and some questionable things in Tupperware. But our freezer had a little treat that I had forgotten all about: frozen watermelon. Into the blender it went, with a little lime and club soda (and, yes, a splash of vodka). Et voila ... ice cold, refreshing watermelon juice to cool my parched throat after mowing the lawn. Hooray!!

photo courtesy of Appon's Thai Food

And the Phlegm Goes On . . .

I have been in absentia . . . again. I have a whole photo montage detailing why I've been out of touch, but right now, just typing this post is taking all my energy.

My blog friend over at The Creamery is doing a thing this week and next (?) and maybe for even longer in which she is posting about finding joy every day. As always, I am loving her posts. And right now, it is definitely a good challenge for me.

Here's my little bit of joy for the week:

For a year, we lived in Flower Mound, Texas, north of Dallas, not too far from DFW, smack dab in between two huge reservoir-y type lakes. To say that we hated it there would be a huge understatement. Mr. J and I were both miserable. The Dog, on the other hand, loved it. Never had he experienced the joys of lukewarm lakes and creeks and bugs, bugs, bugs galore to hunt all night in the backyard. But as much as we love The Dog, we were not willing to sacrifice our souls to stay in that town. (No disrespect to any Texans out there. It just was not our scene.)

Anyway, while living in Dallas, I had one and a half gals and one and a half guys that I would consider friends. For an entire year. I can survive on my own just fine and am able to keep myself entertained for weeks on end without seeing a soul (see: learning how to knit), but a girl needs more than a total of three friends to keep her sane. Sad, sad times. But there was a silver lining: With all that alone time, I don't think I got sick even once that entire year. No sore throats, no horrid stomach bugs, no weeklong flu that saps the very life out of you. Other than my weird, annoying skin rashes, I was the picture of health.

Here in Boise, on the other hand, we have more friends than we know what to do with. It's already gotten to the point that when we invite people over, we have to wheedle down the guest list. Otherwise we'd end up with close to 50 people for a small barbecue. And we only just moved here in August. It's actually incredible. And it is all very joyful. But that is not the joy I am finding today.

Today I can barely see through my two eyes, thanks to a raging case of conjunctivitis, which I haven't had since I was, oh, I don't know, 8? On top of that, it hurts to swallow and cough, and my ear is aching like nobody's business, all thanks to an upper respiratory infection. Joyous. So for the third time this year, I am going on antibiotics again! (Me, the woman who HATES drugs, especially antibiotics). Yes, it is all very sucky and lousy and so very annoying. And yet, it is all because we have friends. Friends who say, "Here, try this piece of brisket," as they feed it to Mr. J with their bare hands (which led to the horrid stomach plague of early spring). Or who offer a sip of their drink to see if I would like to order the same thing, which, I believe, has led to this wondrous trip down phlegm alley. So that is where I am finding the joy. I may be sick, but I am in a place I love with people I look forward to getting to know better and better. I can see myself living in this city for many, many years (like more than 10). And that is something this Air Force Brat had never even considered in any of my past homes. I am home and I belong here and that is so very joyful.

Now pass the antibiotics, please!!

Fabulous Friday

My mom's cousin just forwarded this photo on to the entire family. This is my great-grandmother, AKA Nana 2 (my grandmother was Nana 1, even though Nana 2 was a bunch of people's Nana before my grandmother was anyone's Nana). Anyway, I think in this photo she must have been 90 or so years old. That's my Grandpa's (her son's) pipe and hat, and that's my most favorite lake in the whole world behind her.

What a great shot to start off this gloriously springlike weekend. May your days be filled with as much glee and love as this woman enjoyed every day of her life.

Just Stuff

It's been so long since I've bought whole 100% full-fat milk that I forget what it "acts" like. We have been soy drinkers or skim milk drinkers or whatever for so long now (Mr. J is mildly lactose intolerant ... boo hoo). And seeing as those products are mostly water, they don't usually hold very many surprises (not counting any surprises the processing of said beverages may create). But last time we went shopping, Mr. J bought the milk, and he does not pay attention to 1%, 2%, what-have-you. I think his criteria this time were price, recycle-ability of the container, and hormone-free/organic and all that. So we have this delicious full-fat yummy milk from a local dairy, provided in a fully-recyclable glass bottle. Joy!

However, the "expiration date" for said milk is 3/29, which is a full four days away (I believe those expiration dates as if they are set in stone and mandated by law). But today, when I went to make a tasty toasty Mexican-style hot cocoa, I noticed some scum on the side of the bottle. And when I poured the milk into the pot to heat it up, there was some slimy goo sitting on top. But it didn't smell bad, and I did not see any telltale clumps of badness. So I just stirred it up and attributed it all to the joys of minimally processed wholesome goodness. But now I'm admittedly a little hesitant to take that first sip. Already that hot cocoa slime is forming on the surface of my drink. Oh, the perils of modern life! What a dangerous life I lead!

********

On another note, it's a gorgeous spring day in Boise. A little smog has settled down here in the valley, but this morning's lovely 2-hour hike with friend Rhonda and the pooches got us up into the fresh air and out of the "fray" that is our little city on a Wednesday morning. I really need to remember how much I enjoy getting up early and moving and watching The Dog have such a blast (I love these "controlled off-leash trails" of ours). So assuming I don't die from some horrid milk disease, I'd say that this Hump Day is turning into quite the pleasant day (even if the rest of it will be spent here at this computer cleaning up a document on "very low-income loan obligations"...zzzzz).

Blog Envy

A Few of My Morocco Memories:
poppy fields, a "grocery souk", heading off to the river, our campsite

Oh, my! A friend just forwarded this little treasure along, because another friend is thinking of going to Morocco as a side trip from Spain. I've been to Morocco and can.not. wait to go back! Someday. It's only been since the "war" officially began way back in ... 2003. In fact, we were there for pretty much the entire war, according to good ol' G.W. We left the U.S. just as it was all being launched, and when we returned, Bush was already making his splash landing on the airline cruiser thingie, pronouncing to the world that his mission was accomplished. Obviously he meant his mission to someday fly onto an aircraft carrier (there's the word I was looking for).

Anyway, this woman's blog brought back so many memories, and then I continued on to the rest of her blog and became incredibly envious. What a life! So for anyone who feels the need to live vicariously through another woman's wonderful travels, take a gander: On the Road with Grand Maruby

Feeling Better

Ahh, mood swings. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. Oh, that's right. I don't love thee.

The funk has moved on, though the drizzling rain is still here. Not complaining about that, though. Our seven new trees need the water, and the outdoor dismalness is forcing me to stay inside and work, rather than wandering around downtown window shopping or some such thing.

So before the next funk moves in, it's time for a list of things that make me happy, mainly because I really don't have much else to say, but also because I have been seriously absent from the whole blog world lately and need to get the bloggie juices rolling again. And also ... next time that swing is one its way down, maybe I'll remember to cruise back in time to read this happy little list.

My Happy List
Dollar Taco Thursdays
Two-Dollar Fish Taco Fridays
Fresh eggs from our neighbor's chickens
Finding a steal at the thrift store
Eucerin lotion
Mom's margaritas
Mom's lasagna
Mom's spaghetti sauce
Mom's bloody marys
Oh, and of course, Mom
And Dad
And the whole rest of my immediate family
Chips and salsa and guac (it's been so long, my mouth is watering at the thought of it)
The Japanese maple outside my office window
My hydrangea tree (can't wait to see it bloom)
Mr. J's morning tea
Sushi (though I seriously suffer from overfishing guilt whenever I indulge)
Netflix and Hulu
Reading
Knitting
Being somewhat steadily employed
Cooking
Ripe, juicy melons (and yes, I mean the fruit ... get your mind out of the gutter!)
Mr. J (even when he doesn't hang the towel after showering)
Flannel sheets
River trips with good friends
Camping with good friends
Good friends
Traveling
Fresh fruit and veggies
Sweet potato fries
That salami we had in France with that cheese we had in France on that bread we had in France
OK, let's just say it ... good food of any kind makes me happy
And last but not least ...

The Dog sleeping in the sun (even if that nap happens to be on my new flannel sheets)