{ Baubles! }

There was giveaway a few weeks ago on Chelle's blog, and guess who won?

I did!

I'd have liked to scream, but I was too surprised. I've entered a few online giveaways, never expecting to win. C'mon, the internet is big, and I'm just little ol' me.

And what a treat of a giveaway it was, too: Any item--any item!--from a lovely little Etsy shop called Chouettes.

I nearly fainted from delight.

Vintage?

Vintage bridal?

Estate?

French inspired?

Old Hollywood glamour?

Kawaii?

All these are words that Lily, the lovely shop owner, uses to describe the styles of jewelry she makes. And let me tell you, ladies and gentlemen, I would be thrilled to own ANYTHING in her shop!

When the package came in the mail, I knew that opening it and meeting my new baubles would be a delightful experience. I wanted to savor it. I wanted to have time to thoroughly enjoy our introduction.

Hence, the package sat first on the dining table, then on my desk, for a week. A week, folks!! When I finally had a moment to open it, this is what I found inside:

{Don't you love the bird motif on her card, by the way?}

Cherryheads were inside the pink package.

Isn't it comforting to know that they are a fat-free food?

These are the earrings I chose.
Don't they make you think of summer and sherbet?
YUM!

I have so much more to tell you...about Farm Chicks, paint colors, new recipes, knitting projects, and our upcoming {first!!} wedding anniversary. I'm still semi-buried under the chaos of painting--I decided that since everything was already out, I should sort and re-organize all of it. So there are still some enormous piles perched around our place; the fact that they are driving me crazy, coupled with not wanting to take photos till everything is put away, will hopefully be a good incentive! Lord willing, I'll have more time to devote to blogging in the very near future.

{ San Diego }

In which I describe the Events of my most recent Educational Pursuits, Air Travel, Long-Distance Marriage, and Geology

If, like me, you work in a medical field, you know that you have to get continuing medical education (CME) credits to keep your registry/license current. Registered sonographers have to acquire 30 CMEs every three years to stay registered. The company I work for is wonderful in that they pay for one out-of-state educational conference for every three-year period. I need CMEs this year, and thus I attended my first conference: The American Society of Echocardiography Scientific Sessions in San Diego.

{Mt. Rainier out the airplane window--we flew right by Mt. St. Helens too, but I didn't get a photo of her}

{My hotel room. Pretty snazzy. I slept in one bed the first two nights, the other the last two nights. Mike says that is weird.}

I am super lucky for several reasons: 1. I'd never stay in the Marriott on my own dime, but it was the official hotel for the conference, and my employer picked up the tab. I could totally get used to someone making my bed and cleaning my bathroom every day and leaving me brand new, deliciously-scented little bottles of conditioner, shampoo, and lotion daily! 2. I was assigned a corner room on the 20th floor, so the east and north walls were basically just windows. Incredible, almost wraparound views! 3. Being next door to the San Diego Convention Center meant I only had to walk 5 minutes to get to all the sessions. Pretty sweet, especially since my feet were totally in shock that I wasn't wearing Danskos. Everything gave me blisters: heels, wedges, even ballet flats. My poor feet have been totally spoiled by almost 5 years of Danskos!


{View of the Convention Center from my room, looking mostly south and eastish. It's gi-nooooooooooooooooor-mous!}

{Another look out my windows. See the trolley tracks? And the train tracks next to them?}

{I was in the south tower of the Marriott. This is my view looking--you guessed it--north at the NORTH TOWER!}

The Marriott is also right next to Seaport Village, a quaint-but-kitschy 14-acre outdoor shopping area. I found an antique carousel and fell instantly in love.

I was snapping pictures like crazy and totally feeling like a kid, watching the glee of the children on the carousel and hearing the carnival music. "I'm going to come back some night and ride the carousel," I says, says I. "Heck, why not ride it tonight?" I says. "I will!" says I. And so I did.

{End weird pirate accent. I have no idea why I started talking pirate in my head, or why it came out this way.}

{Incredibly unflattering self-portrait}

The conference itself was information overload in many ways. I didn't realize how long it's been since I've sat in classes all day--it was really hard to do! And I missed Mike like the dickens. Seriously, it was miserable. The longest we'd been apart prior to this was two nights. Call me a pansy, but I was the loneliest thing for four and a half days!

{Walking path along Seaport Village}

I'm not the kind of person who likes to go adventuring by herself. I also didn't have a car. The one afternoon I traipsed to the Gaslamp Quarter by myself, there were tons of cute shops I wanted to visit....but there was also crazy Petco Stadium traffic, tons of people, and a general vibe of "this probably isn't the smartest place for a girl to wander around by herself in the evening." Again, I'm probably a pansy, but cruising the hip, urban city center of the seventh largest city in the USA by myself after a day of brain overload...just not happenin'. So as far as sightseeing and vacationing go--I didn't do much!

This restaurant totally reminds me of Aunt Josephine's house from "Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events." I was just enchanted by the look of it. The food? Not so great.

{View of Coronado Island from my table}

There were several horses and carriages like this, tromping about the Seaport Village/Embarcadero Park South region. The little girl in me was delighted to see something so Cinderella-esque. The name of the company is prominently displayed on the back of each carriage: Cinderella Carriage Company. Apparently I'm not the only one who thinks fairy tales when I see globular-white-wrought-iron-on-wheels being pulled by a horse.

{The south tower is on the right in this photo}

I have to tell you: I love the show "Dirty Jobs." It is flat-out hilarious and often disgusting. {Trust me, if you work in medicine, the line between these two becomes dangerously thin! But I loved it pre-sonography, so go figure.} Mike and I don't have a TV, and the only two shows I miss are "Dirty Jobs" and "What Not To Wear." I have valiantly searched the internet for full episodes of "Dirty Jobs," to no avail. My husband, the manliest of all nerds, hasn't even been able to find more than clips lasting a couple minutes. The Marriott doesn't have many channels, but when I realized the Discovery Channel is one of them, I was overjoyed. Surely there would be an episode of "Dirty Jobs" at some point during my 4.5 day stay in the Land of Television! Surely!

We've already established that I'm an old soul {or maybe just weird!} who doesn't take appropriate advantage of marvelous cultural opportunities {a.k.a. you may never be in San Diego again!!}, so it will probably not surprise you to hear that when I learned there was going to be a special "best of" episode of "Dirty Jobs" at 9pm on Monday night, I planned my entire evening around that program. I made sure I was all dinnered out and packed and laid out for Tuesday in plenty of time. The conference ended on Tuesday at 3pm, so before going to the first session at 8am I needed to check out of the hotel since I was flying home Tuesday night.

I had a grand old time, knitting away on a baby blanket for a friend whose shower is next week, watching Mike Rowe take a crack at all kinds of gross jobs that keep America running. I really wasn't prepared for the entire room to start shaking back and forth, halfway through the program. I had experienced the Nisqually earthquake and a couple tiny quakes in my nine years in Washington.

But an earthquake?

At night?

While I'm alone?

In San Diego?

On the twentieth flippin' floor?!

Not okay!!!

I didn't freak out, but I was really scared and I had no idea what to do. Get in a door frame or under a table, yeah yeah yeah. But are the rules different when you are on the 20th story? In a corner room? When you know absolutely no one here? I didn't know. I ran to my door, poked my head out into the hallway, and eventually {it seemed like an eternity} an Indian lady who was maybe 30 and wearing a sari threw open her door.

Me: "Is it an earthquake?" {Like, duh. Does the Marriott routinely sway to and fro on Monday nights, and I just didn't know about it?}

She: "I think so!"

Me: "So what do we do?"

She: "I don't know!"

Me: "Should we go downstairs?"

She: "I think so!"

I was so glad I hadn't put on my pajamas yet. I grabbed my purse and flip flops and literally catapulted myself down the nearest stairway. I'm pretty sure that by the time we finished our little conversation, the earthquake had ended. I had visions of being trapped alone in my room if the building collapsed; at least if it collapsed while I was in the stairwell, there was the chance that I'd be trapped with other people. I met a group of ladies {in their jammies!} at the 14th floor, and by the time we got to the lobby, it was all over. There were fire trucks in the roundabout, the manager was announcing over the intercom that the building would not be evacuated, all the elevator alarms were screeching and there were quite a few discombobulated people. I called Mike and my mom to tell them what had happened and that I was okay, and ended up milling around the lobby for about an hour before heading back up to my room. I was pretty shaken, and as if I hadn't wanted to go home already, I could hardly stand the thought of another 24 hours before being home.

And I missed the last half of "Dirty Jobs." It was a crying shame.

{The entire 2.5-hour flight, San Diego to Seattle, was flying into the sunset. It was beautiful.}

I used to be the most enthusiastic traveler you've ever seen. From childhood to the present day, I've dreamed of the faraway places I want to visit. I love to fly, explore new places, and have adventures. The key is that I love to do these things with someone else. I just don't like doing these things by myself. I realized, after a few days of being baffled by how homesick I was, that all my travels thus far have involved a companion. Coupled with the fact that this is the longest I've been separated from Mike, I guess it's no surprise that I was glad to see it end.

That, and getting only half an episode of "Dirty Jobs" is totally, totally unfair.

{ Mike Dear }

Do you remember the Disney cartoon "Lady and the Tramp"? As a child, I must've watched it dozens of times. I loved Lady, though those wicked Siamese cats and the slut-mutt in the pound who had a crush on the tramp kind of scared me. {Slut-mutt!! Well, I never! Who comes up with these kinds of phrases to describe innocent childrens' movies? Certainly not me...} Anyhow, another of the things I love about "Lady and the Tramp" is the interaction of Lady's human owners. A young couple in love, we never see their faces, but they always refer to each other as Jim Dear and Darling. I thought that was so romantic. I dreamed of my husband calling me Darling.

Well, I don't refer to my husband exclusively as Mike Dear, he doesn't usually call me Darling {unless Babe is the 21st-century equivalent}, and we haven't got a Cocker Spaniel puppy. But he definitely makes my heart go pitter-patter in a most undignified manner. Earlier this week while I was in San Diego, I scrolled through the photos on my camera and found so many good photos of my husband, it made me miss him more than I already did. As if that's possible. Take a peek for yourself:

See? Even while waiting for the Triple XXX burger of his dreams, he's happy. Content. Dreamy. *sigh*

I kid you not: His profile literally gives me a lump in my throat, and sometimes my heart skips a beat too. I had the biggest crush on Mike from the first time I saw him. It was awfully inconvenient 'til we started dating: I'd practically fall over at group events when I looked at him.

I call this Thoughtful Entrepreneur Pose.

{Why am I writing a blog post and not sitting on his lap right now? Why?}

Those eyes. Oh, those blue, blue eyes. I have married a handsome man, yes indeedy I have!

He is also a very mischevious man. This is the grin reserved for pranks and goofiness and all manner of highfalutin' shenanigans.

{Seriously...where IS he? Mike? Babe?}

Somehow, on my birthday, Mike ended up wearing the wig and margarita glasses.
He is still so stinkin' hot.

I've gotta go find him!

What I'm doing this weekend :

Painting.

Dear People of the Internet, I have not been abducted by aliens, taken hostage by humans, admitted to the hospital, or any other such dire thing. I've just been really...well...busy. That's a terrible reason to neglect one's blog for so long, and I really wish I had time today to tell you all about my birthday weekend and all the goings and comings since, but I'm in the middle of taking all the electrical outlet faceplates off so we can wash and then paint our cobwebby condo. I had no idea how many cobwebs one can accumulate in ten short months. Many. Many, many, many.

All this is to say that my fervent hope is to be back to regular blogging very soon. This weekend is going to be awfully interesting, what with Mike and I tackling bedroom, bathroom, living room, and dining room {ceilings + walls for all} and neither of us has ever painted before. I take that back. I once helped friends paint a bedroom wall. And we've both helped paint the exterior of a house once. But that doesn't really count. The bedroom I helped paint was empty. Here, we have to somehow cover our entire lives in plastic and dropcloths and still manage to live and eat and sleep and shower! And it's cold and rainy {so apparently, Courtney, I wasn't waiting for sunny weather!} so I'm hoping that lots of coffee and happy music and entertaining comments from my husband to keep me warm as we fling open all our windows. I'll post the before and after photos as soon as I can. Promise.

Now, where did I leave that screwdriver??

{ this weekend: 27 }

Happy Birthday to me!

I hope you all have a perfectly beautiful weekend. Sunshine and laughter and flowers and time with the people you love, that's what I wish for you.

I expect I'll be pretty busy, with the "Day of Relaxation" Mike has planned for me tomorrow and a birthday party on Sunday, but I can't resist posting this lovely image. I wish I could claim it as my own...ranunculus, I love thee!

{image from Design*Sponge}

{ i am blessed. }

last night we were going to have another couple over for dinner.

the mrs. is 8 months, three-and-a-half weeks pregnant with their first child. she had a rough day yesterday and they had to cancel.

i stopped at the farmer's market near work on my way home. they just re-opened after the winter and i was pleased as punch to find all sorts of fresh, local goodies for much less money than i would have paid in the grocery store. i was seduced by giant stalks of rhubarb and jolly pee-wee avocados, four for $1.00.

as i drove home, husband called me to suggest we invite two of my former roommates {who are still roommates themselves} for dinner instead. i had been thinking exactly the same thing. with so much good food ready to be cooked, it was a shame to waste the evening. i called, they were delighted, and we had a new plan.

husband ended up missing dinner because a client had an emergency, so it was just the three of us girls. we had a lovely time. the cinnamon-paprika lamb {i'd never made lamb before} was delicious--thanks to the recipe in real simple's april issue--and we sipped strawberry lemonade and marveled at what dried apricots and an onion can do to dress up couscous and chatted about our lives and hearts. husband got home in time for dessert, individual molten lava cakes, and we ended up having a sweet, mellow evening all around.

i love having people in our home. having a dining table, and chairs, and good lighting, makes such a difference in my ability to express hospitality and enjoy the act {which is really a kind of work} of expressing it.

{awesome recipes from real simple help, too.}

i'm so glad that i'm married to a man who enjoys being hospitable even more than i do. a man who also wants to open our home and work with me to make it a warm, inviting place of fellowship and safety and dialogue. A place where Jesus is Lord and King, loved and honored and a friend. i'm glad i'm your wife, mister mike!


this morning i was awakened at 6:34 a.m. by husband kissing me goodbye, heading to a pastoral training conference. at 7:08 a.m. i was awakened again by the sound of dishes being washed and the smell of coffee brewing. groggy and somewhat confused, i stumbled out to find pastries on the table, fresh coffee, and husband cleaning up the last of the enormous mess left from the night before. the training had been canceled. he fried bacon and eggs while i showered, and we had a sweet little saturday morning breakfast, joined by our friend sunshine who streamed through the windows with all his might.

when our tummies were nice and full, husband pulled me to the couch and we analyzed paint chips taped on the walls and narrowed down our choices by a good bit. we both laughed at the number of colors we described as "too poopy"--i've changed too many diapers and husband, well, he's a guy, and i guess that makes him an expert!


we laid on our bed, heads at the foot, me in the crook of his arm, pointing with our toes to the chips we liked or disliked. we fell asleep to the sound of michelle's blog playlist, my favorite background music. {picking paint colors is exhausting.} when we woke up, i called work and discovered that i probably won't have to work today--o happy day!

being married lovers in springtime is so much better than being engaged lovers, or dating lovers. you can do things like decorate our home together, and wake up together, and make breakfast together in your pajammers, and even laugh at poopy jokes that you would be way too cool to make until that man has promised to love you 'til death do you part. it means catnaps in the morning together to recover from breakfast he made for you, and meal planning for the two of us, and having friends over to our house, and being host and hostess together, and making all those little daily memories together, day in and day out.

yes, springtime is for lovers. i'm still one of them.

ranunculus from the plants i bought when i was looking for a new thermostat...i never thought i'd be so easily tempted in lowe's, of all places!

{ Seabrook, part II }

Words cannot do justice to the joy, beauty, laughter, and tears that made up that weekend. It was so beautiful.

Each photo is an infinitesimally tiny slice of those extraordinarily beautiful days.

Andi's darling knack for standing on chairs to get people's attention, make announcements, take photos...I think that secretly, she just likes heights...

Heading to the beach: Katie the Wild Aussie Bike-Rider, Chelle and Sadie~Rose, Fairlight on another bike, and Leslie.

I love how all the unpaved paths are covered with crushed white shells. Shiny mother-of-pearl bits, bleached white bits--breathtaking and unexpected beneath your feet. The seaside version of the Yellow Brick Road, perhaps? The White Shell Paths?

The banner Chelle made for Katie's surprise bridal shower

Quinn the Heartbreaker with his two "girlfriends," Dawna and Aminta. This little man is the strong, silent type: Mellow, sweet, laid-back, never complains, totally chill. He is so, so dear.

I think the Seabrook Beach Camp cabins, kitty-corner to our house, are the perfect place for a rustic seaside/forest honeymoon!

The morning Dawna and I spent holed up in the playroom upstairs, putting together our surprise lolly bar and happiness boxes for dinner that night. It ended up not being so much of a secret, since nearly everyone dropped in the playroom sooner or later. We talked and ate Jelly Bellies and laughed and talked some more...such fun! I miss you Dawna!

Not only is Dawna the Queen Mum, she gives grown-up girls piggyback rides! Over brush and roots and branches and mud and soggy swampy marshland and puddles. This was not your ordinary piggyback ride. I am still impressed.

Jack.

Oh, Jack. You have won my love forever, small boy. Your million-dollar smiles, your snuggles, your growls as you power-crawl across the floor, your chubby thighs spilling out of legwarmers, your itsy bitsy toothies and the toothy grin you flash at everyone. How you spunkily crawl right into the middle of a kitchen full of fast-moving people just to hang out or chase a toy or peer up at faces, till someone scoops you up and loves on you. Those huge blue eyes. Your endlessly sunny disposition. I love you, Jackers, and I always always will.

Breakfast with Jack

Naptime with Jack--he fell asleep holding my necklace {a gift from Mike that says "i'm his favorite"}

~Ocean and Beach~

I took a stroll through Seabrook one bright morning and found many a house and cottage I loved. This one especially caught my eye, with its unusual windows and the round porthole by the front door. Do I sense a family vacation in the future??

A bicycle on someone's porch

A nearby street of sunny white cottages

How great is our God: That He knits together our lives in such beautiful ways!

Note: You can read more about our weekend here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and here.