26 August 2013

Use Your Inside Voice

We went racing this weekend. It's our last race for this super-short, late-start season. 

We started on Friday morning with what is called a test & tune.  We don't usually do these but we had the opportunity and took it.  It was just Kevin, me, and the Nephew.  So much fun!  So much less stressful.

We went up to make our first pass and off Kevin goes.  It looks good, nothing spectacular and we wait to see his numbers flash on the board.  Like a scene from Groundhog Day, it's the same exact numbers he's been running after multiple changes that shouldn't allow that to happen.

Forgetting that it's a test & tune and that there's no other cars running, spectators, or even an announcer in the tower, I stood in disbelief in the middle of the track and shouted:


There was an awkward silence for a moment then our friends just started laughing.  I should really pay more attention to my surroundings. 

Usually, anything I say can't be heard over the noise.  Although, usually I don't say much at all.  I don't like the overly excited reactions that some people display.  I just feel it's poor sportsmanship.  While yes, you may have just done very well, someone else? not so much.  I get it if you've broken a record or just won a race but even then.  If something goes well, Nephew and I do an awkward little fist bump and move on.  If we lose, we always congratulate whoever won.

Fast forward to the next day: same scenario but now racing is underway so lots of noise and people.  We watched Kevin again but the Groundhog Day curse was broken.  This time I smacked the Nephew in the shoulder (sorry, Monkey) who is videoing everything and shouted "FINALLY!!!!"

That will be great to hear back on the video, I'm sure.  As well as the footage of the ground and sky that occurred when I smacked him. Well done me.

21 August 2013

1,035th Reason to Have A Puppy

She's sleeping with her head on my hip while I was napping...err..watching television

18 August 2013

A Conundrum

How does one deal with a problem like this?

Does the red towel go in the middle?

Separate the stripes?  But then there's two red towels next to each other.

What is a girl to do?

17 August 2013

A Lovely Day

We went to an absolutely lovely wedding today down in Seattle.  It was the wedding of a friend of Kevin's, a car guy.  We had no idea if it was going to be a semi-formal or casual wedding and it was a lovely mixture of both.

It was at a private Catholic school, in the courtyard, outside of the chapel.  The weather was perfect.  I wish I took more pictures but I hate that new development in weddings: audience members taking pictures instead of being in the moment.

But here is one I took while waiting for the ceremony to begin:

The groom has been married before and has two young daughters.  They were bridesmaids with special matching dresses different than everyone elses.  As they came down the aisle, the groom stepped down, kneeled, and met them with a hug and kiss. I heard someone behind us say "The wedding just started and I'm already crying."

The bride arrived in a 57 Chev that the father of the groom drag races.  It was an absolutely perfect touch.

The ceremony's reading of scripture was actually a passage from The Velveteen Rabbit, which I found an interesting choice.

The Skin Horse had lived longer in the nursery than any of the others. He was so old that his brown coat was bald in patches and showed the seams underneath, and most of the hairs in his tail had been pulled out to string bead necklaces. He was wise, for he had seen a long succession of mechanical toys arrive to boast and swagger, and by-and-by break their mainsprings and pass away, and he knew that they were only toys, and would never turn into anything else. For nursery magic is very strange and wonderful, and only those playthings that are old and wise and experienced like the Skin Horse understand all about it. 

"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"
"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."
"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.
"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."
"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"
"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

( I know, right?  I'm still unsure about the use of that)

My favorite part though?  After the announcement of husband and wife and the first kiss, Kevin leans over and says "Ours was better."

A lovely day, indeed.

12 August 2013


Kevin and I had a kinda sorta date night last night.  I know! on a Sunday, such heathens. 

While we were eating dinner, by ourselves, in a restaurant we haven't been to 5 thousands times, near our house, Kevin looked up and said "I'm so glad we're not in Seattle right now."  It had just occurred to him that our lives have finally reverted back toward normal.

We had a normal weekend.  We did chores and errands.  We hung out.  We watched a movie.  We haven't watched a movie from start to finish since what feels like the advent of color television.  I finished a book.  I walked to the mailbox, twice.  We completed chores we kept having to put aside. We. Hung. Out.

Normal felt weird, foreign almost.  We could take a deep breath.  We could not flinch when the phone rang.  We could turn the music on loud without a worry.

Tonight, the kids were here when we got home.  Kids!  Kids in our yard, playing with the puppy and hanging out with "Gumpa"  (a hybrid of "Grandpa" and "Grumpy" from the littles)  The Nephew has muscle definition (took me to the gun show...hahahaha...lame joke) and is tanned.  He's standing up straight.  There was an actual hug in his hug.

We got to just hang, play, and having fun and what's that word again?  Oh: relax. Yes, that's it.  We haven't bumped into it in a while.

Mundane.  What a strange thing to enjoy.  I hope it sticks around for a while.

09 August 2013

Damn Crows

We were talking about Kevin's mom getting a puppy and about how in the country the little toy dogs can't be outside by themselves.  They can become lovely snacks for some of the more predatory animals in the woods.

For some unknown reason, Kevin's brother decided to tell his mother that he saw a video of crows attacking a small dog to emphasize the point. (I KNOW, RIGHT?)

After I was finished complaining about how stupid that is to tell to a 75-year-old woman, I wondered whether or not that was even something a crow would do. "Aren't they scavengers?"

Kevin exclaimed "They WOULD! Crows are ASSH*LES!"

It made me laugh out loud.  Now when I see a crow, all I can hear is Kevin.

(and they kinda are, it turns out. They're also very smart birds.)

Oh, and new puppy:

My name is Bella and I weigh 5 lbs