Time Off

I am lucky to have a relatively flexible employer. It lets me get some time off in when I need it.

Boy, did I need some time off. Dave also kept telling me that I needed to take him to Chicago for his birthday, so that he could be in Wrigley Field on his 38th.

So, we went, and we watched the Cubs lose on his birthday and then the next day.

We also went to visit some pretty amazing people. Namely, The Maiden Metallurgist and berg with fries. They are just as fun and easy-going as they seem.

There are lots of pictures from our little trip. So many that I'm having a difficult time deciding which to share here. Instead, I'll leave you with one of my favorite things I ate while in Chicago (and I ate a lot): A CB&J at the Hopleaf Bar, which is a cashew butter and fig jam sandwich with melted manchego cheese between slices of toasted sourdough. It was served with bleu cheese mac and some crazy crispy chips. I washed it down with a couple of Atomium Premier Grand Cru. Delish!

Sifting

When Dave takes time off work, he usually does it for one or two weeks. During opening week of the baseball season, he took off the entire week. I was jealous.

Now, since we're going on a little vacay to Chicago to see the Cubs and these fine folks, Dave took off TWO ENTIRE WEEKS.

Two. Weeks.

Can you tell that I'm a little jealous? OK, maybe more than a little.

Because, you know, up up right now, getting ready for work (and blogging) and Dave is asleep. And do you know what he has on the agenda today? Going through boxes of baseball cards and stuff from high school and college that was stowed at his parents' house. That's something you can do drunk, which means it's not really a chore, right?

Also, the contents of these boxes is kind of shocking. There was a toy wookie in one. In another, there were notebooks labeled for college courses. Only the first two pages had any writing in them. Do you realize how much that bugs a nerd like me? A lot, let me tell you. (Also, now that I just used "a lot" I am reminded of this, shared via The Maiden.) And Dave had two entry-level guitars stashed in his parents' attic. They need to be restrung, though.

There was also old yearbooks and stolen street signs, the usual ephemera. And then, the motherlode: Old Beverly Cleary books. No. Not kidding.

Dave did, though, find his diploma from Texas A&M, which reminded me that I need to get mine framed...

Oh, and did I mention that we're going to go on a little vacation? And did I also mention that I think it's completely unfair that Dave got a head start?

The Payoff of Frustration

If you're a crafter, you probably have dealt with project frustration.

You pick the project, the pattern, the yarn, whatever. You say to yourself, "This is going to be SO EASY." No big deal, right? You've got skills.

Well, what often looks easy, when it's your first attempt, doesn't usually work out right.

I have been wanting to make one of these cute boxy bags to stow my knitting in while I'm out and about. I use plastic baggies, and they don't have a particularly long life span. They're OK for storing the yarn and pattern together, but not so much for being crammed in a purse or tote bag.

Well, I got started with the tutorial, which was OK, but not very explicit. Like, it doesn't say which end to place the zipper, or whether or not you're to do a 1/4 inch seam, stuff like that.

So, after much swearing, I gave up.

Then I had lunch, a cup of coffee, and made this:







I'm off to make a few more! Maybe I'll put handles on those...

Critical Update

1) Baby possum came back tonight, only it showed it had far more nefarious plans in mind. The sinister little bugger was in our chicken coop when we went out to close it. I re-homed the little sucker down the next block. SIYONARA.

2) I am probably way to excited to be visiting these people. That makes me feel a little silly, but hey, they're really awesome!

3) Dave lost his ID while jogging. A neighbor found it. Considering that we would have a pretty hard time flying out to Chicago if he didn't have his ID, I'm calling it a miracle.

Cranky and Judgmental

First, it annoys me when people misspell "judgmental." There's only one "e" in that word, people.

Obviously, I'm being very judgmental. I'm also very cranky. I am usually this way when I'm on my cycle. And by the way, I hate that euphemism, too. It makes my reproductive organs sound like a dishwasher or something.

In other news, there was a baby possum in our backyard just minutes ago. Dave heard Hornsby barking like Tom Jones was in town and we took our handy-dandy rechargeable spotlight to the backyard to go investigate.

Lo and behold, a baby possum had his little tail all wrapped up on the chain-link fence. He was growling and hissing as loud as his little baby possum body would let him. I told Dave to take the dogs outside and bring me a broom.

Now, if I were my parents, I would have just taken the dogs inside, got a trap, baited it with catfood, and waited until the next morning. That's often the case with large possums, but babies? Babies are easy. You just get them to climb onto the end of a broom and you move 'em to a safe spot. If you've got a pushbroom, you can probably get them up on a tree limb and safe from predators. If not, a neighbor's home is your best bet.

Weird thing to happen on a Wednesday night, no?

Oh, and we had our first 90+ F day in Dallas today. We turned on the A/C. Thank God for refrigerated air!

If It Makes You Happy

So, I've been on a kick.

It's a music kick.

Specifically, it's the music I used to listen to in high school and junior high. Sheryl Crow. Sarah McLachlan. Nirvana. Lots of Tori Amos. Alanis Morissette. Lenny Kravitz. Live.

And I started to think, "My God. How embarrassing! These are all mainstream acts! What would people say?"

And really, I should only be concerned about what my elitest husband will say. He'll likely turn his nose up at what I've been jamming lately.

But, for me, I'll keep jamming because it makes me feel good to sing along and remember what it felt like to have so few cares.

And isn't that what music is supposed to do?

May Showers

A few days ago, someone asked me how my new job was going. I've been at my current workplace for about six months, so I have a hard time believing that it could still be considered a "new" job. In any case, I usually tell the truth: It's completely different from my last job.

And different is good. I'm writing, and I'm doing photography, which is awesome. I'm editing, too, which is excellent stuff. I guess you could say that different is a happy place.

The only thing is that I park pretty far away from my office building, and the commute to work can be a bitch. On the way in, I saw the prop cars they're using for a TV series filmed in Dallas called "The Good Guys." I also got stuck behind production vans and was late to work.



Do you see the fake cop car? It's the one with black fenders.

It started to rain just before I was about to leave the office. I had two umbrellas and managed to leave both in the car. I managed to get quite damp between the office front door and my car. But when I got home, I was treated to this:



It was one of the biggest rainbows I've ever seen. If I were on Flag Pole Hill, I bet I could have seen it from end to end on the horizon.

The storm and the setting sun left the sky a weird orange color. Weird, but beautiful.



A good end to the day.

Pseudonyms

I work in the garden a lot when the weather's like this. Sometimes I'll spend all day digging in the dirt. It's not a chore when the high is 82 F and It's nothing but clear skies.

I'm beginning to think that the work i'm putting in is starting to show, too.



So, our mailman has nicknames for us. I love the fact that he delivers our mail, so he knows who lives here, and yet he has nicknames for us. Dave is Mr. Baseball. Kind of self-explanatory, right?

Me? I'm Mrs. Green. Because of my garden. Which, might I add, is fully organic.



Cute, right?



So, we're all out enjoying the beautiful weather, either gardening with a cold one or watching a ball game.



Hope you're enjoying spring, too!



The chickens are!