A Very White Christmas!

Flannery and Ryan ventured off to Canada for the holidays, to visit his family. Thoughtful as she always is, Flannery offered to stop at Lake Louise, which is located in the beautiful Banff National Forest, and take a photo for me, knowing that Lake Louise is one of my most favorite spots in the world. Wow! It sure looks different in the winter! Apparently, it was sooooo cold, the rest of their party stayed in the car while this photo was shot. They were headed to Vernon from Calgary, and the trip was a beautiful one, albeit a very chilly one. Thanks, guys!

Photo credits: Title photo for blog - Ryan May/Flannery; Photo of R & F - Steve May

Ice Cream

I'm not sure why I'm writing about ice cream at this time of year. Brrrrr! It's cold! But, I was thinking about ice cream when I made a special trip to the grocery store to buy little Johnny's favorite flavor of ice cream on his birthday last week. I got to thinking about how great ice cream is. Although I don't eat it often, we seem to go through an awful lot of ice cream at our house, thanks to little Johnny's nightly habit, and Taylor's frequent trips to the freezer. Anyway, thinking about ice cream reminded me of Eddie Murphy's ice cream, or actually, ICE CREAAAAAAAM skit, and I thought you might enjoy listening to it. Beware for those easily offended, though. There are many cuss words in his routine:

O Tannenbaum

As I was watering, decorating, ooohing and aaaawing, and generally primping over my beautiful Christmas tree this weekend (and wondering how long it will take the cats to destroy it), I thought about all the Christmas trees I've welcomed into my home over the years. Sorry, folks. We're about to take a trip down memory lane and you'll just have to get over it, or stop reading right now and either check your facebook account or pour yourself a drink, or both.

Anyhoo, my very first Christmas as an adult I remember well (don't worry, I'm getting to the tree part of the story eventually), because my then-boyfriend worked at night guarding a Christmas tree lot, so he could buy me an engagement ring. Isn't that just so sweet? This was back when the dinasours roamed the earth and people didn't have cell phones. They had regular, plug-it-in-to-the-wall type phones (quaintly referred to as "land lines" now). Well, because we were just so much in love, we spent the majority of each night, all night, talking to each other on the phone while he was supposed to be "guarding" these trees. So, just so you get the visual here, the trees are outside and he's inside this trailer with the heater cranked up. I remember one conversation we had went something like this: Him: "Hold on. I hear something." Me: "Be careful!" Him: "I'm not going outside. Hell, no. It's too cold out there and I can see the guys stealing the trees. They are about twice my size!". So much for hiring someone to "guard" the trees. We did get engaged that Christmas Eve, and my ring was very simple, and very lovely.

The first actual tree I remember buying as an adult cost me all of $5.00. We were very broke and waited until Christmas Eve to buy our tree, when most of the lots would practically give the trees away. We truly had a "Charlie Brown" tree that year, for a whopping $5.00, but we excitedly hauled it home to our little apartment and decorated it. It was a real beauty!

Large and majestic, or small and sweet, all trees are great to me. The fact that you get to bring one into your home for a little while just sweetens the deal.

It just gets better and better

Although I am not usually a regular fan of television, I have been following the Giants faithfully, and so, as a result, I have been subjected to some really funny commercials. Here's one that I especially like, and I can be counted on, consistently, to laugh at the "You're gonna love my nuts" comment. Here it is:



Even better than the Slap Chop, though, is another commercial sent to me by my daughter, Maeg. The E Z Cracker can do it all. Yep. Here is my new favorite:

Art - The good, the bad, and the ugly

As I was traveling to work the other day, I was thinking about the current de Young exhibit of the birth of impressionism that my friend Bonnie went to last week. Much to my surprise, as I was listening to the radio, NPR did a piece on the Museum of Bad Art.

Who knew? Imagine that!

Just goes to show ya, one person's trash truly is another person's treasure.

Summer pleasures

Although I did not travel to any exotic lands or experience any wild adventures, this summer has been pleasantly cool, and fairly relaxing. I had little adventures, visiting friends and family, as well as receiving visitors, all welcomed and enjoyed. There was the trip to Vashon Island to see my daughter, son-in-law and little spot of sunshine; the short jaunt to Chico/Paradise; the visit from my friends from So Cal, Wilda and her hubby, Jim:



Added bonus: We oohed and cooed over Wilda and Jim's gorgeously adorable granddaughter, Amelia, held in this photo by the equally beautiful new mom, Amanda:



A pleasure indeed.

Summer of Paradise

While I described the locale of Maeg's new home on Vashon Island, WA as a "paradise", I did actually visit Paradise, CA this summer, on a quick road trip with my friend, Bonnie. We drove up to her rental home in Paradise to "try on" some new colors for the trim of her stone house before she ordered up the professional painter(s).

It takes about four and a half hours to get there, so we stayed overnight with her mom, Doris, in Chico, a quaint little college town, and decided to have dinner at the Sierra Nevada (as in the brewery) Restaurant. When it was time to order our drinks, Doris and I each ordered a pint of beer. Rather than choose just one beer, Bonnie ordered the "sampler", and our eyes widened considerably when the "sampler" arrived. It turns out that the "sampler" included 16 small glasses of different types of beer. I was licking my lips, excited to think we would get sixteen different types of beer to taste; Doris was worried about who was going to drive home; Bonnie gave me a surprised look when I reassuringly explained to Doris that we (meaning Bonnie) would be just fine driving home. After all, we were going to have dinner, weren't we? Driving was hours away.

While I'm not sure I would describe the town of Paradise, California, as an actual paradise, it's really quite lovely. Woodsy, green, and certainly friendly. Doris was at her 'entertaining' best, we slapped some paint on the trim of the house and oohed and aahed over our choices, had a good dinner (I have no idea what I ate...all I can remember is all the wonderful beer I drank), and topped off our stay with a brisk walk with the walking group that Doris (who turned 92 this spring) meets each morning at a beautiful park, followed by a waffle breakfast with lots of coffee and conversation, and then we were back on the road.

Much to my surprise, Bonnie stopped at a casino on the way home for a pit stop. We managed to piss away not only the coffee from breakfast, but a few buckeroos on our way to and from the restroom. Lady Luck did not come along on this trip, but there's always next time.