No. 13: Thanksgiving at the Beach

No. 13: Thanksgiving at the Beach


Below is the post I wrote a week before Thanksgiving, scheduled to post on the Tuesday before Turkey Day.   So much for making plans. 


It's funny how things work out.

When I put No. 13 on the list, I always assumed it would be Thanksgiving in Florida with Belle or maybe another Thanksgiving in Cozumel like we did as a family when the kids were little.  I even considered Thanksgiving in Galveston.   But that's about as far as my mind went when it came to beaches.

And then someone new sees the list and says "Hey. I can help with Thanksgiving at the beach."

Which is how I'm ending up spending this Thanksgiving at the beach in Oregon!

A totally new state for me.
Certainly a new beach.
And with a lot of family, none of it my own.

It's hard with three kids in three different states.
The Big Guy doesn't really like to fly.
Bunny has to work the day after Thanksgiving.
Belle has already done Texas this month and has travel plans for December, so she isn't leaving Florida.

Where I live in Colorado is really hard to get to.

So. Thanksgiving at the beach in Oregon.

Happy Thanksgiving to all and I will report back on No. 13.

Instead, on the day that I was supposed to drive to Denver to meet my friend Diana for lunch before flying out on Monday, I woke up with a fever. And cramps. And ...ahem...intestinal distress. And when I stood up...I fell down. I now know the meaning of "orthostatic". It isn't much fun.  Then my intestines decided that a good ol' bleed would get my attention.

A quick call to my sweet neighbor and off I went to the ER while Carlos was whisked away to his pre-set date with the kennel.   Texts to my travel companion and my lunch date were quick and to the point.  "Change of plans...." 

The rest of Sunday I pretty much slept. When I was awake I told anyone who would listen that I had a flight scheduled for Monday. They all shook their heads "no" . Lots of poking and prodding and IVs produced no answers, only the promise of an upper AND lower GI  Scope for Monday morning. I didn't care- that's how drained I was. 

When I returned from my adventure in GI scoping on Monday, Diana was waiting in my room. Everyone needs a friend like that. No questions asked...just "I'm coming."   She stayed with me all day, asking questions, listening, making sure we understood the doctors. Of course, they weren't saying anything beyond "You aren't getting on a plane. You could have any of these things. We really don't know what's up. You could bleed to death."  I lost lots of blood apparently.  (Sometimes ignorance is bliss because the numbers meant nothing to me but made my nurse co-workers raise their eyebrows when I told them my hemoglobin numbers.)

By Monday afternoon my flight had been rescheduled for Wednesday, I was feeling much better and could almost stand up without falling over. Three out of three doctors still said "You aren't flying anywhere."

Never underestimate the power of a woman on a mission. 

Tuesday morning I felt even better, could totally stand upright on my own and still no one could give me an answer as to what went wrong.  One doctor came in and said "Crohn's Disease, no question." but Diana and I dismissed him immediately. That didn't sound like a diagnosis I wanted.  I was still getting on a plane Wednesday afternoon.

By lunchtime the doctors were wavering. There was no reason to keep me. Their choice was to release me to my cabin in the  woods where there was at least a foot of new snow on the ground, no food in the house (I was supposed to be gone for the week, remember?) and no one around except the cat, who does NOT know how to dial 911 ..OR... have Diana drive me to the airport, pour me onto the plane, have me picked up on the other end where I would be surrounded by people who would keep an eye on me and require me to do absolutely nothing.  Guess who won!?

Oregon was lovely and sunny and the sunset on the West coast was amazing and the people were welcoming and I rested and ate and walked on the beach and worked jigsaw puzzles. 

This is how I spent the afternoon.

Drawing in front of the fireplace. 

Saturday night I got a call from the doctor. Ischemic colitis. Random, probably a one time thing. 
Sunday I flew home. 

I promise, I was VERY thankful. 

Happy Holidays Out of my Comfort Zone

Happy Holidays!!

I hope everyone had a lovely Thanksgiving.

I spent the weekend in Dallas with my brother's family and my mom and even my sweet son. 

Me with my mom and brother.

Growing my bangs out...ugh.

Nothing worse. 

My absolute favorite picture of the weekend.

My great nephew playing Pokemon with the Big Guy. 

Also had the chance to see some friends so it was a pretty perfect time. The icing on the cake was I got to get on a plane- not much makes me happier- and on the return trip I spent a night in Denver with my friend Diana and her very sick daughter and her not sick son-in-law.  LOVE having a place to stay in the Mile High City as the drive to and from the Denver airport is the pits. 

And now I'm back at the cozy cabin in the woods, watching the snow fall outside my window. Don't think the temp has been above freezing at all today. The pellet stove is blazing and there is chili in the crockpot for dinner. 

Mina on my lap, fire in the pellet stove.

Cozy in the woods.

Need to put the Christmas tree up.

And last week I really got out of my comfort zone. The hospital had a craft fair which I went to last year...but wasn't brave enough to sign up for.   Cheryl, the nurse I work with, does beautiful photographs that she puts on cards and canvases. She sold things last year and encouraged me to try it this year. And then she reminded me and nudged me just enough that I turned in my fee and committed.   

Honestly, selling stuff I make has always intimidated me. Lots of doubts of  it "doesn't look professional enough", it isn't "creative enough". Whatever. Lots of excuses to not try. 

So with a shove from Cheryl, I tried.   I made some beads...necklaces and earrings and fun wrap bracelets. Then I made some banana bread and apple pies. And then I made some seasoned salt. My fabulous nephew, Andrew, who is über creative and much better at computer design than I, offered to help me with a label for the salt. I had a basic idea- he cleaned it up.   So it was an interesting table of items for sale. 

Andrew's improved version of my label.

After setting up, I wandered the other tables and despaired a bit that I was not as organized, creative, professional and then decided "F*@k it. I don't care."  This was an experiment. Would anyone buy anything? Would I take everything I came with home again? 

Lots of little salts. 

And some earrings. 

Needed a little work on the display but o well.

Well, guess what?  I sold half my salt, most of my bracelets, all of the banana bread, all but one of the pies (Fools. I should have sold all of them as they are really yummy.) and some  earrings and necklaces.  I probably made a $120 profit, which, considering I had zero expectations 
and I only started working on things November 1, was not bad. I had someone come up and tell me they had bought one of my bracelets for her daughter for Christmas. Really?? I made a Christmas present?

Would I do it again? Sure. But I would plan a little more- my presentation needed work-and start creating a little sooner. 

So. If you create, share it with the world. There will always be people that are more or better but there are also people willing to spend cold hard cash on your ideas and creativity. And that is such great validation. 

Put yourself out there.   And have a wonderful holiday season. 

Brains

Brains. Love 'em. 

I've said it before and I'll say it again. I just love brains. Love how they work, how different they are and how the same thing can be perceived so differently by two different people.

Wishing my brain was synesthetic, but its not.

But it can do lots of things like draw and write and Hallelujah! I do have common sense so I'm not totally complaining.

I love smart people. Not just book smart but everyday smart and specialized smart and people that have just one interest that they know a whole whole bunch about.

I don't have much patience with stupid.

And stupid doesn't necessarily mean no book smarts. I've met a few book smart people that couldn't find their way out of a paper bag.

With three kids I've gotten to experience three totally different brains. When I was pregnant with the third I kept saying I didn't care if it was a boy or a girl- truthfully I didn't want to know. (Thanks, Amy, for spoiling that surprise!) But mostly I was curious about who would we get. Personality. Brains.

Probably one of my most favorite pics of this kid.

Even with the giant diamond in his ear.

The first kid, the Big Guy, is a musical whiz. He can play anything by ear. He learned how to read music but he doesn't. In that respect he's just like my brother, Paul. Paul could sing and play anything,  a trait that I was always totally jealous of. I can't carry a tune in a basket. Zero musical talent. None. Big Guy got it all.
But Big Guy can't do math. He learns it, then it just goes...I can't tell you how many math classes he repeated in high school but it was a lot. One semester of algebra was repeated three or four times. He was privately tutored twice a week for math from the time he was in fourth grade until he graduated from high school. Year round. I thought music was supposed to help kids with math? Not in his case.

First time surfing, got up right away.

Same with snowboarding, skate boarding, etc, etc. 

Natural athlete.

Then came Belle. A mover and shaker from four months. Literally. Set her on the floor at four months plus one day and turned my back. She rolled from one room to another. And never stopped after that. Belle didn't crawl, she rolled. Then at 8 months she walked. At 8 months and one week, she ran. She could climb anything. We had to nail the dressers to the walls. She had gross motor skills AND fine motor skills from the get-go. At one year old I could put her in her car seat, drive thirty minutes and she would still be in the seat, but her shoes would be unlaced and then re-laced in an entertaining if not exactly correct order. Every sport came easy to her from bikes to horses to surfboards and soccer.

Belle could recite the entire Golden Book of Cinderella at the age of 3. Word for word. That book has about 30 pages, it's not a board book. But Belle struggled with letter sounds. I knew she wasn't reading but it took her teachers a bit to realize it. She could "fake read" so well.  Belle is dyslexic. And I cannot tell you how many times she has amazed me with her logic and ability to see the same situation that I see in an entirely different way. It's like she comes with the ability to see something from the back rather than head on like the rest of us.  She still memorizes like a champ. It's a really handy quality. She's a great waitress because of it.

Bunny can bake. That's a math and chemistry thing.

Once she told me she was going to make crepes. 

I warned her that people tried for years to perfect making crepes, plus we didn't have a crepe pan.

No problem. 

She followed the recipe and they were easily some of the best I'd ever had.

Last we had Bunny, that third kid. At first I didn't really notice in the chaos of three kids and moving  from one house to another, that she was talking in full sentences at 11 months. She could sing the alphabet song all the way through, correctly, about the same time. At 3 she taught herself to read. From about 6 to 8 she played a game where she could look at a word and tell me if it had an odd or even number of letters in it, faster than I could count the letters myself. Big words. "Neighborhood". We would see words on a sign  and she would shout "Even" before I could even finish reading it out loud. She might not have known how to spell the word but she could certainly tell me how many letters it had. And she was NEVER wrong. She eventually tested out as Gifted and Talented in math and science.
BUT!! "Left" and "right" are concepts that still challenge. (Although, thankfully not so much since she has started driving.) And if it wasn't for her sister, she would have been dead a million times because she could NOT remember to look before crossing the street or to not walk in the middle of the road.

Could these three kids have been any different? Totally different brains. Totally different thought processes.

Challenges but also compensations.

And then I was talking to a friend of mine whose mother has Alzheimer's. What an awful awful disease, slowly robbing victims of their memories, their mobility, their lives.

Her mom has been diagnosed for quite a few years now and had gotten to the point where she was pretty much immobilized. The home had her in a wheelchair. She didn't walk.

Last fall she had a few seizures.

Seizures are uncontrolled electrical impulses in the brain.   And guess what?

Now her mom is dancing. And walking.

Really.

Proof.

                  

For those of you getting this by email, the video may not show.

Click here for the link.

Isn't that amazing???

Brains. A never ending source of wonder.

Happy Mother's Day!

Happy Happy Happy Mother's Day!


I am incredibly lucky to be the mommy to these guys.....

*

 Bunny and Belle

*

Me with my Big Guy.

Yes, my hair was incredibly short.

And incredibly lucky to have this woman as my mommy...

 Me with Jean Mom at the bus station in Mexico City in 1973.

We were headed to San Miguel de Allende. 

Many people tell my I am a very strong woman, whatever that means. Basically I think it means I am very much like my mom.  I look like my dad but I won't take crap from anyone. That comes from my mom. 

She allowed us kids to have a gazillion pets. A baby goat, many snakes (that were always escaping in the house), an opossum, raccoon, mice, rats, guinea pigs, cats, dogs and caimans. But never a horse...I've taken care of that now, though. 

She let me go 1000 miles away to school in Mexico when I was 18. I asked her how she could have allowed me to go so far (pre-cell phones or actually ANY phone availability and pre-Internet access) and she said "O! Well, we figured it was one of the safest places you could go!"   Mexico's reputation has certainly changed in the last 40 years. 

She was a Girl Scout leader for umpteen years, supported me through flunking 5 years of Spanish (I'm pretty fluent now but totally didn't get it in High School), and taught me to sew, paint, create. 

She totally was (and is) my example of how to get a business to do what's right.   My kids used to say I was so embarrassing when I got into the "May I speak to your manager, please?" mode but now I hear them say  "O, Mom, I had to act like you today. That store was trying to take advantage of me."

Thanks, Jean Mom!

So happy Mother's Day Jean Mom and your present is running a little late. Sorry. 

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I'm also fortunate to have been a second mom to so many of the kids' friends. Rachel wins the prize for being the first to wish me a Happy Mother's Day for the last 3 years. And she's not my kid. Love that. Thao used to have me listed as her mother on Facebook. Love that, too. Ford, Parker, Dillon,  Lawrence, Brian, Taylor, Sarah, Danielle, Gabby, Jenny, Lizzy, Hannah, Jessica, Rachel, Thao, Makayla, Mailee, Shelby-I'm proud to have you all as my children. Love all of you. (And sorry if I left a name out....you know moms, they always forget one kid's name when they are trying to rattle off names.)

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And happy happy day to all of my friends that became moms before I did or right along with me. They were and still are my source of so much parenting info. So kids- if I have screwed up, please place some of the blame on Diana, Liddy, Cherrilla, Martha, Megan, Cathy, Nell and probably a few other moms I can't place right now.  It takes a village....

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Also, I promised an update on the garden. Except we have had rain all week and nothing quite got to blooming. We need just a bit of sun. But I am not complaining. Colorado can always use rain. And then today we got...wait for it... snow. And it is still snowing!

The back deck, and it is still coming down. 

Another inch has accumulated in the time it has taken me to write this post. 

So there will be a garden update next week IF I still have a garden. I planted so many things this past week. The tomatoes and basil got covered but all the other plants are having to fend for themselves. Cross your fingers.  

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Also. A VERY happy birthday to Liddy and Nancy, who are both celebrating today.   And happy birthday to Nancy's daughter, Sydney. How special is that? Having a baby on your very own birthday!

* photo credit Christine Meeker Studio

Baking at High Longitude or...

Baking at High Longitude or...
More Adventures in Living in the Middle of Nowhere


Friend Diane just came back from Steamboat and she had this little story to tell.

While riding up the elevator one night, two very inebriated young ladies got on with her.

Tipsy #1 commented that she was "so drunk" and she just had no idea how she got that way, she didn't think she had THAT much to drink.

Tipsy #2 reassured her that she didn't drink that much, it's just that "at this longitude, the alcohol hits you harder."

From here on out I am going to stick to the theory that I live at 8000 feet longitude and it makes it difficult for me to assimilate any alcohol.

If you don't get what's funny about this story, I'm not going to help you.


Anyway...

Bunny turned seventeen on Monday and she requested an Angel Food cake for her birthday.

I will refer you back to September a year ago when I made the mistake of ordering a birthday cake for Belle rather than making her one. I thought by ordering and paying for a cake I would be spared the embarrassment that would accompany an ugly cake. I'd never baked at 8000 feet and knew it could be tricky.

Here was her cake:

Here is what she expected:

Belle wanted something elegant and maybe with a little bling, but definitely cheetah printed.   Apparently I did not convey that clearly.

Now September a year ago we had just moved up to this high "longitude".  Since then I have done quite a bit of baking and pretty much figured out some of the alterations required to make baking successful.

BUT.

I have also heard that Angel Food cakes are a little harder to master than some of the other baked goods.

So I started a day early and planned to just make an Angel Food cake from a box mix.

I neglected to actually read the high "longitude" instructions on the box. Usually it requires more water or higher temps, nothing out of the ordinary.

Ha! This time the high "longitude" instructions required corn starch, something that wasn't in the pantry. And the grocery store is about 18 miles/30 minutes away.

Thinking I could figure this out, I went on the internet and found a different brand cake mix that just required some extra flour. Ok, that should work. I had a Betty Crocker mix, that was for Duncan Hines but seriously, how different could they be??

Apparently quite a bit.

Here's what I ended up with:

 Cake #1.

I've always heard of cakes "falling" but I've never experienced it. Until now.

So, off to the store again anyway. One hour round trip.
Another cake mix and this time I got some corn starch,too.

And here is cake number two:

 Cake #2.

While it may not look much better, it actually rose very high, overflowed and then settled back down to a manageable shape.

Flipped over and drizzled with pink icing, it didn't look too awful.

Bunny turns 17!

And it tasted just fine.

So happy happy birthday Baby Bunny.  

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And two weeks ago, while I was in Texas, the Big Guy also had a birthday.

It was a busy, crazy week and there was very little time for baking, celebrating, anything-ing. 

The Big Guy was very understanding.

I did go to the kids' favorite breakfast burrito place for burritos to bring back to Colorado. Big Guy asked if I would bring him some, too. 

Voila!  A Breakfast Burrito Birthday "Cake".  Candles stuck between the burritos, the Happy Birthday song sung and my oldest officially turned 23. 

Yikes!

Really there are candles between those burritos. 

Just hard to see. 

No. 60:Almost Completed But....

Instead an education.

After the Orange Show last week with the Big Guy we headed off for lunch. He wanted to go to Elevation Burger. 

Yay! 

Someplace I had never been in Houston. I could finally compete No. 60: Hit five different restaurants in Houston that I have never been to.

But as we entered the restaurant the Big Guy noticed a small symbol on the door. 

Have you seen this before?

It means Halal meat is served. 

The Big Guy was not happy. 

He asked if all the meat was Halal and once assured it was, he said "Hell no" and left. Not exactly knowing why, I followed. (It's kind of hard to take someone to lunch if they refuse to stay in the restaurant.)

All I wanted was a good burger. What happened? 

Halal meat refers to how it is prepared just as Kosher refers to how a food is prepared. 

The animal's throat is slit and allowed to bleed out which according to many gives the meat a better taste. This would seem like a good thing. Tasty meat. Yay.

But there's another part to Halal meat that isn't as well advertised. Slaughter is done by a Muslim while invoking the name of Allah. . And some believe that eating it means you are endorsing the religious belief behind the blessing. 

With the conviction and clarity of youth the Big Guy sees things only in Black and White. He's a Christian. He would not have any part of it. 

Beyond that, he's an animal lover. He believes a shot to the brain is quicker and more humane than being made to slowly bleed to death.  

Gotta agree with him there. If I have to go, I want to go quick. 

So off we went to find something else to eat. 

And then I spent the afternoon learning about Halal meat. 

Every day is an education. 

And No. 60 is still unfinished. 

(I'm in Florida right now getting Belle settled at school. She's getting her wish of school by the beach with dark skinned boys sporting pretty eyes as an option. Blogging from the iPad is not very efficient. Bear with me! )

No. 2: Go to the Orange Show

No. 2: Go to the Orange Show


First: The Back Story

The Orange Show Monument in Houston is the creation of one man, Jeff McKissack.  His goal was to honor the orange, healthy eating and hard work. He did this by building a  "maze of walkways, balconies, arenas and exhibits decorated with mosaics and brightly painted iron figures. "  *  

Orange Show Entrance

It wasn't painted orange because someone told 

Mr. McKissack "orange wasn't a very good color."

McKissack was born in 1902 and had many jobs including trucking oranges, welding in a naval shipyard and delivering the mail in Houston.  He never married but did propose once to a woman. She turned him down and after that he decided he could not afford a wife and never tried again. (Poor baby.) 

A conglomeration of wheels, metal birds, and mosaic tiles (with sayings meant to encourage healthy living and the love of oranges) makes up the show.  Started in 1956, Mr. McKissack worked alone on his project until he died.  He opened his exhibit to the public in 1979 with the anticipation that 90% of the U.S. would want to come. When the crowds failed to appear, he quickly went downhill and died 7 months later. (Again, poor baby.)

 The wheels were a big theme.

Mosaic sayings, tile work, lots of welding.

The Orange Show Center for Visionary Art is the foundation in Houston that runs The Orange Show and also keeps the Beer Can House open. The Big Guy and I went to that before his 21st birthday.  One man covered his entire house and yard with beer tabs and lids.  Because, why not?
They also organize the Art Car Parade, which was No. 3 on my list to visit. Cars turned into visions of art.

Our Experience:

So anyway, last Thursday morning the Big Guy and I went exploring the mazes of the Orange Show. I was totally inspired by all the mosaic sayings tiled into the walls. I was also a little bewildered by the fact that the whole place was supposed to be honoring the orange. It didn't seem to have too many orange references....but maybe that was just me.

 The Big Guy admiring Mr. McKissack's handiwork.

 Loved these mosaic hearts.

Isn't this bit of mosaic tile work sweet? 

Afterwards we wandered down to Smither Park that is under construction at the end of the street. It is also part of the Orange Show foundation. Being built in honor of John Smither, a supporter of folk art and the Orange Show, the park has a wonderful back wall of mosaic tiles anchoring swings, a pavilion and a giant fish grotto. It's going to be magnificent once it is done.

 I found my throne! 

Can't wait until it's finished. 

 A mosaic bunny with sharp pointy hair. 

Not a park for small children!

Isn't he wonderful? 

A mosaic clam.

The Take-away:

I am always intrigued by people whose passion inspires them to create.

Jeff McKissack found a way to channel his passion and energy into an homage to the orange and healthy living..
John Milkovisch, the creator of the Beer Can House, found a way to insulate his house, recycle his beer cans and - bonus!- create a fabulous work of folk art when he started nailing beer can tops rather than tossing them.
Jim Bishop of Bishop Castle in Colorado (I visited here) took his abundance of rocks and knowledge of welding and built himself a true castle.
Passion. We could all use more of it.

(Also, welding seems to be a very useful talent if you want to create a giant work of art!)

No. 2 marked off the list.

Well....

Well.....
That didn't go so well...


Re-entry to Texas has been - ahem- a challenge.

Things went from bad to worse to beyond belief and back, all in one week..

On the last leg of the trip in from Colorado Bunny called me with one of those "My Air Conditioner in my car isn't working right" freak outs.  My windshield got a(nother) ding.

The house wasn't dirty, per se, but there were lots of piles of things just set down. And left.
Empty boxes stacked in corners, awaiting disposal.
Bank statements piled on the desk.
The hubs likes everything out on the counters in the kitchen so that cabinet doors do not have to be opened. I don't.
Stuff seems to have multiplied.
(Just try leaving two men alone in a house after years of having a mommy to take care of everything. They did a pretty good job on the basics, but no actual organizing or cleaning out was done in that time.)
And then, of course, we brought a bunch of stuff back with us.
So I have my work cut out for me.
This is my office. It's a bit overwhelming.

Ugh.

 The desk. Normally everything is in its place. 

The floor next to my computer. 

I step around this to write my blog. 

Soon.

Soon it will be handled. 

Monday I was supposed to bring horses in at the barn. Just eight or nine of them. No big deal. Until it started storming. The rain poured in buckets. Lightning flashed.
I do. not. like. lightning.  Not one bit.
I had gotten three horses in, another horse owner showed up and got a couple in, then the sky opened up. We both got soaked. The remaining horses got soaked.   I know, I know, these are horses. They won't shrink. They can get wet. But if the fields get muddy, and the horses get frisky, then shoes can be lost and backs can be thrown out. So we waited in the barn for over an hour until the rain let up and we could get the stragglers in.  Oddly, I thought that was going to be the fiasco for the day.

Me and Jacinda. 

Soaking wet selfie.

But we got our job done!!

But no.

On the way home from the barn, the Big Guy calls me.  He had driven my parents (his grandparents) to the doctor and then was heading to the other grandma's house to feed her cat. (The other grandma, my mother-in-law, is in rehab after falling and breaking her shoulder and leg back in April.) It was pouring rain, remember? A flooded intersection and the grandparents' car did not mix. The car stalled.

Not too worried, I picked up the kid and later we went back for the car. Oops. Clouds of white smoke billowing out of the tailpipe. Shudders and groans from the car. None of this seemed right.

Tuesday the repair shop confirms that this isn't right. The engine is blown on the grandparents' car.

A family friend died. Fifty six years young. Cancer. So very very sad.

The hub's uncle died. He lived a long, full life, but again. Cancer.  So very very sad.

Since my parents are now without a car, some last minute driving errands have been thrown in.

Wednesday Carlos slashed his paw. Three places. Very deep. Lots and lots and lots of blood.
He had surgery on Thursday and came home on Friday. Not sure how many stitches $500 buys you, but apparently a lot.  He wore the embarrassing party hat for about thirty minutes before I took pity on him and  removed it.

So mortified.

He is such a smart dog. Not once has he even looked at that paw, much less tried to remove the bandage or tear out the stitches.

Part of the reason he is being so very good 

might be that he is also very sedated. 

Stitches come out (on purpose) next Monday. We may go in for a bandage change this Thursday.
He is pretty depressed. Poor puppy went from running 10+ acres with deer and bunnies to a backyard with at least a pool to play in ... to being confined to a small patch of yard and no walks at all.

Life pretty much sucks for Carlos.

O! And if we want him to do without his "cone of shame" then we have to be with him all the time. So Carlos has not been left alone since last Friday morning. Not one minute.

Saturday was the friend's funeral. People spoke eloquently, tears flowed freely. It was all just a bit too gut-wrenching.

And Sunday we went to an adorable little great niece's birthday party.

Sweet baby girl turned three.

And had a blast doing it.

Belle and I both noticed that relatives were asking "How long are you home for?" and "When do y'all go back to Colorado?".

Huh?  We weren't expected to come home? People expect us to go back??

WHY didn't someone tell me sooner???


This week has started off better.

The grandparent's car is not totaled. Just needs a new engine.

I'm hoping it's all good from here on out.


Please.