Cody showed up at our house at 7:00 am with a mega box of donuts. Just because.
A little while later, Colin made his specialty: Everything Bagel Sandwiches with cheddar cheese, guacamole, egg whites, and turkey with Frozen Orange Juice, of course.
And then it was Wrestlemania, for the 952nd time that morning.
It was a happy Father's Day.
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The weekend hit with the first wave of summer and it was like heaven. Summer is the besty besty best time of year to me. After a Sunday night barbeque, we decided to go on a family walk. If only I could bottle up our sweet Green Bluff air. It's dreamy. And after scooping up some extra friends along the way, we headed over to our property to take in the view.
And a dirt clod war.
Welcome back, summer. I've missed you so so much.
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Today I need for the sun to shine
. . .
to clean my pantry
. . .
bake camp bars
. . .
wash the laundry
. . .
mop the floor
. . .
scrub the sink
. . .
change the sheets
. . .
iron the clothes
. . .
and just enough time to stop and smell the roses
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Every morning I think about how my dreams came true.
About my happy life.
And I smile when I think about the good that is yet to come.
I had clouds in my cocoa this morning.
And it's going to be a beautiful day.
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I've come to realize that I love a theme. I always have. This week, it's eggs.
And I have a fascination with languages and how words and phrases are translated from one language to another. On our recent trip to St. Martin, we tried to order fried eggs for breakfast, but we weren't able to describe it in French. Round and round we went until our waitress finally responded, "Oh! Sur le plat!" On the plate?, Colin asked, puzzled.
And yes indeed, it was one in the same. And I swear their fried eggs are better than ours and I think I know why. White pepper, (not black), and salt. Understated seasoning, to really let the delicious egg flavor shine through.
Aren't eggs the best? I'm going to be writing about them all week...
P.S. I know you're going to ask about my darling little egg carton. Isn't it the cutest? I spotted it when I opened the fridge in St. Martin and it was so cute that I asked everyone to please make sure not to throw it away when the eggs were all used up. But guess what? It got thrown away by mistake. So I went to several markets in St. Martin until I could find another. Crazy, I know.
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It was always so quiet in our 40 acre woods and I'd wander off to the cliffs where the wind would blow and I could gaze at all of the succulents growing on the rocks. I'd look down onto the forest below and wonder what was there under that canopy of trees. Then I'd make my way down the narrow path to the old fallen tree that was hollowed out and try to fit inside. It seemed so cozy. So perfect. But I couldn't ever squeeze my way in. So I'd gather the bark that lay in piles all around and I'd make a village of tiny houses, all the while dreaming of what I'd become. Who would I be? I'd eventually make my way to the snag that stood big and proud on the outskirts of our family's national park, an enormous area my mom had declared would be just that someday - and an area we'd intermittently rake, move rocks, and clear paths, only to stand back and realize the work we'd just done amounted to roughly the size of a postage stamp. And it was on one of those days, when standing back looking at the postage stamp progress and feeling defeated, I noticed my snag. She was perfect. And I could fit inside, with room to spare. And inside my snag, It became my little home away from home, a place that I could make my own and play house. My brother carved me a sign that read "Reenie Beans" (my nickname) and colored the letters red with crayon. And we nailed it right over the door, which was a little hole I'd crawl through to get inside. And there I'd sit in the silence, dreaming once again. I wanted to be a baker, have my own little bakery someday and a secretary because I'd get to type on a fancy typewriter. Or an archeologist so I could discover wonderful things. But mostly, I wanted to be a mom and wife and have a happy life. And eventually my dreams came true and I'd get the happiest life. Better than my best dreams. But I never realized how hard it can sometimes be. To be a mom and a wife, trying to get everything just right. Because I want to raise wonderful children who do wonderful things. I want them to have the world and to love it too. And some days, I wonder, are we getting it right? Are we doing everything we can do? And I worry, like lots of moms do. Then one day, a few weeks ago, I received a letter in the mail, addressed to me at The Farm Chicks. From another mom to me, a letter that made me think that we CAN get some things right. One postage stamp at a time. Lisa, although we've never met, I want you to know that your letter was like a note from a friend and that it meant the world to me. It made me teary and it made Bongo smile, actually, beam. And for that little while, it was like a big gulp of the most refreshing water. You filled up my mom glass. Thank you.
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This morning dawned with a wispy haze that made the prairie look so romantic. The color of the day always affects what I choose to wear.
I love pink and gray. Actually, I love pink and anything.
Micah eats about 900 bowls of Cheerios to start the day. I can't believe how big he's getting. He's taller than me.
The boys head off for school. I love that Bongo never stops waving until I'm out of sight.
I stop by my friend Elaine's house to check out her stash of old chairs and see some projects she's been working on.
Elaine and her husband, Lyle, have been dear friends of mine ever since they participated in the very first Farm Chicks show in my friend's barn right next door.
I stop at one of my favorite thrift shops, Classy Rack. I love that my junking habit supports the Union Gospel Mission.
I find some colorful vintage stripey fabric and a FireKing baking dish to add to my collection.
I scoop up this retro plastic tote at another thrift shop, Value Village, and a bunch more fabric and thread at the fabric shop for a project I'm working on.
I swing into my little hometown post office and Frank is scared to see me at first. I shipped 175 packages out one day last week and he's afraid I've brought that many again. He's happy to learn I only have three today. Phew!
I pick the boys up from school. I have a feeling Mr. Blue Sky had an important appointment at 3:00 in the gym. I'm not sure how I figured that out.
Uh-oh! I realize I forgot to defrost the salmon for dinner. Luckily, Colin taught me the trick of adding frozen fish into a bowl of water for a quick defrost on the counter.
Luckily, the salmon thaws in time and we have Asian Salmon Patties with Sesame Mayonnaise (recipe from the new Everyday Food cookbook), Chinese noodles, Baby Bok Choy, and Marinated English Cucumbers. Dinner is super duper delicious. These Salmon Patties become our family's new favorite salmon recipe. Yum yum yum yum yum!
I love cozying up with my family. American Idol is on and then it's good night.
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My family and I are home again after a happy vacation to St. Martin in the French West Indies. It's such a treat to be completely free of phones and computers and to just enjoy the world, quietly.
And it's always nice to be home again too. Because there's just no place like home, even if it is the middle of winter and the snow is falling. Oh my.
And because of the wonders of Typepad, my blog was updated regularly while I was away, thanks to the auto posting feature. But some of you had questions which went unanswered until now. If you posted a question, I tried to answer each one, back in the posts that the questions were posted in. You can refer back to the posts for my replies.
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I grew up slathering my face and hands with Oil of Olay. One of those things you do without ever stopping to think about it because your mom always did. I even kept a bottle in my desk at school. Until that day in the sixth grade when John VandenHoogen notice my jar and mocked me saying, "Oooooooh! Oil of Olay! It came make you look younger too! Goo Goo Ga Ga!"
And right then and there I suddenly wondered, "Why do I use this stuff anyway?!"
Well, it was the one beauty secret my mom had always imparted on me: Oil of Olay will keep your skin beautiful forever. And she always looked naturally beautiful. No makeup at all.
But that day in sixth grade, I gave it up for good. I didn't want to look like the baby John VandenHoogen said I'd become.
Twenty Seven years later, while strolling through Belltown in Seattle, I stopped at one of my favorite neighborhood cafes for a light lunch: A roasted beet, goat cheese and arugula sandwich and a Perrier. And it was delightful.
After lunch, I strolled around for several hours, shopping and enjoying the city before heading back to our home away from home.
And when I stepped into the bathroom to re-apply my lipstick, I noticed something wrong with my lips. Purple lines were shooting out from my lips all around. What on earth was this?! I scanned back through the day in my mind, wondering how on earth this could have happened to me. The Beet Sandwich! And it had revealed something I never knew I had. Lip lines. And I, and all of Seattle discovered I now had them.
Thankfully, I recovered from my initial shock of learning that I'm aging and have taken up moisturizer once again. But I'll tell you what, it may be a while before I eat another Beet Sandwich.
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You know those days where you just feel like cleaning? Today's that day for me. Good thing, because with our house on the market, it's important for me to keep it in tip-top shape.
It's been such a nice winter, with not much snow and lots of unusually warm weather. I'm a huge fan of warmth!
We're nearing completion on the design of our farmhouse and just this week a friend of mine found the perfect sink for me! I'll tell you all about it next week.
For now, I'm off to make the house clean and cozy for when the boys get home from school and Colin gets home from work. I think that makes such a difference for family happiness. And I'm all about that. Happy weekend!
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My friend Beth mentioned the other day about dreaming big for the new year. And I'm a believer in that too. I've never been one for resolutions but have always believed in a dream. And why not? If we don't start dreaming, how will we ever get to where we want to be?
A couple of years ago out of the blue, I decided I wanted to run a marathon. I've been a runner ever since I met Colin, but had never put in the mileage required to prepare for a marathon. But I was ready for the challenge. I spent months training, running through the orchards of Greenbluff, and had a 17 mile course I grew to love. I knew that if I could comfortably run 17 miles, I could make it through the 26.2 of the marathon on that one day.
But with most dreams, I had my doubts. Would I really be able to finish? I was nervous enough that I didn't tell anybody other than Colin and the boys about the marathon. And when we made the trip to Portland, I didn't even tell our family because I didn't want them to come and watch. What if I couldn't finish and they were just waiting and waiting at the finish?
The day of the marathon, I was filled with butterflies as Colin walked me to the start. Earlier that morning, he had run me through his pre-race checklist, all of which went in one ear and out the other. And he was sure I needed a watch to monitor my pace. My pace, I thought? I just want to finish.
We parted ways at the starting line so he and the boys could get situated on the course to cheer me on. I can do this. I can do this, I told myself. And the race started out really well. As I weaved my way through downtown Portland and out into the industrial area, I felt like I was flying and that all of my training had paid off. 5 miles. 11 miles. 15 miles. And as I crossed the 17 mile mark, something that I never imagined would happen....did. I began to cry and the cry became a sob. I could hardly see. But I didn't care. I was now running farther than I had ever run. 17.1 miles. 20 miles. 25 miles. And then I could see Colin and the boys cheering me on to the finish.
And just like that, I finished 26.2 and I was officially a marathon finisher. And even though it was one of the toughest things I'd ever done, I couldn't give up on my dream. And I was so proud of myself for making it come true.
I'm a dreamer. Are you? What are you dreaming about this year? I know we can make our dreams come true.
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This morning we awoke to our first snow of the season and I was reunited with the snowblower and my .50 cent church rummage sale winter boots. These boots are so awesome I don't even need to wear socks. And I have to say, I think the snowblower is one of the greatest inventions ever. It makes life so easy.
When I was a little girl, snow meant life was going to be a challenge for a while. Our three mile long driveway cut a steady, steep path winding its way up the mountain to our little cabin at 4,000 feet. And as winter rolled in and the snow piled up, access to civilization became harder and harder. For a while, my dad would park the truck at the bottom of the road and we'd make the trek from our cabin to the truck and then dad would drive us to school. He'd spend the day at the saw shop with his logging buddies and then return to school to pick us up at the end of the day. And we'd make the hike back home again. But the snow would eventually get so deep that my little legs couldn't make the walk and we'd become officially snowed in.
At first, we'd make the most of it - my siblings and me. We even tried to learn to ski, but the skis were wooden and had no straps and the rope we used to tie our boots to the skis just stopped us in our tracks. (This is me feeling 12 year old optimistic and my 16 year old brother knowing it was hopeless. Turns out, he was right).
So, we'd turn our attention to making igloos for snow bomb fights and make snow treats by drizzling maple syrup onto snow. And then we'd head up the hill with our aluminum snow disks that we'd just heated up on the woodstove and covered in paraffin wax. My sister would make the first run down the hill to designate the path, followed by my brother who would pack down the run and make it icy. My job, as the youngest, was the official guinea pig. And just after the above picture of my optimistic little self was taken, I sped down the hill on the "little sister test run" in my paraffin wax turbo blaster snow disk. And in a blur of speed, I nailed the jump they'd made, unbeknownst to me, and became airborne. I landed on my back and was knocked out cold. And after my dad was summoned to carry me home, I spent the next several days laid out on the floor, unable to move.
Eventually, when the snow eased up, we'd dig out the crummy (our family suburban), chain up the tires and make the terrifying trip on our unplowed road into town where I'd be reunited with my classmates.
This morning, as I was snow blowing, I glanced over to the window where Mr. Blue Sky was doing a happy dance. And when I was all done, and came back inside, he met me with a huge smile on his face and camera in hand. "You're amazing, mom!" he told me. "Thank you for taking care of the snow for us". And then he told me to strike a pose. "Work it girl!" he said. So I did.
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I'm in Seattle this week and it feels like my home away from home. Colin has another office here, which means we're here often. Seattle is a beautiful city. Isn't the view from our window so pretty?
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I had a tiny party with my nieces, Chloe and Annie and their mom (my sis-in-law) Alison this weekend. Everything was tiny - except the fun.
We made tiny aprons for all their dolls and tiny dishtowels too.
And then we packaged it all up in tiny little bags for the dolls to take home.
And we managed to drink our tiny little tea, eat our tiny tasty treats, and have tiny conversation all while my tiny little nephew took a teeny tiny nap.
How-to's: I made the dots on the table by punching out scrapbook paper with a 7/8" circular craft punch.
The tiny three-layer cakes were made by baking chocolate cake in a sheet pan and cutting out the layers with a small circular cookie cutter. I frosted each tiny cake just as I would with a regular-sized cake, and covered each one with white chocolate shavings.
The party hats are from Martha Stewart, but you could also easily make your own, using scrapbook paper to roll out into a cone, hot-gluing into place, and then attaching elastic.
I made the tiny pies in little oven-safe condiment dishes and made the tiny circles on the upper crust using the tip of a cake decorating tip.
The tiny cute-as-a-button cupcakes were baked in cupcake liners I found at the Japanese Dollar Store and the sugar buttons came from Bake it Pretty.
We made the aprons by cutting out an apron shapes from fabric and edging each one with bias tape. We used bias tape for the apron strings as well. We stitched the bias tape into place, but it could also be attached using hot-glue.
The tiny bags are from Martha Stewart.
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I was being interviewed for a book recently and was asked about Colin. What does he do? And you know, it's not easy for me to sum that up in one little answer. Mostly, he's just amazing. A family guy who loves us bigger than the world and always always puts us first. And then I remembered an article the Spokesman Review did on Colin just before his first Ironman race back in 2003. I've always been so thankful that even though he's the most active person I've ever met in my life, he's not one of those guys who's away from his family. We're his number one. And he is ours.
Triathlete has family support
When Coeur d'Alene was named host of the Ironman USA Coeur d'Alene triathlon, Colin Thompson's dreams came back to life.
On June 29, he will put years of athletic training to the test by swimming 2.4 miles, biking 112 miles and running 26.2 miles.
And assisting in his dream is his wife, Serena, and their four sons.
"It doesn't have much of an impact on me. The only difference is Colin is not there when I wake up in the morning because he leaves early to fit in a workout,'' said Serena.
Thompson, 32, began running 10 years ago. His first marathon was the 1995 Portland Marathon. He has also completed the Spokane Marathon twice, and his fastest marathon is 3 hours, 36 minutes. He ran Bloomsday this year in 48 minutes, 30 seconds.
After running the Portland Marathon, he began to have knee problems. So he started swimming at Witter pool and taking a swim class at Spokane Community College. He completed his first triathlon in 1996 in Coeur d'Alene. And he started thinking about competing in an Ironman.
The thoughts translated into action last summer when the whole family- Serena, 32, Cody, 12, Micah, 5, Lucas, 4, and Ethan, 3 - traveled to Canada. They wanted to watch the Penticton Ironman, and Thompson was going to sign up for the next year's race.
Serena and Thompson took turns watching the events and watching the kids. They were energized and marveled at all the fit people. ``I am not a triathlete, but watching the Penticton Ironman was an amazing experience and very inspirational,'' said Serena.
But Colin came to another realization the night before registration.
"Serena would have her hands full taking care of the kids. I would have a hard time concentrating knowing the Herculean task Serena would be handling. I just couldn't do it,'' he said.
He left Canada disappointed but relieved by his decision. No Ironman for him.
Then Coeur d'Alene was awarded the Ironman. There wouldn't be travel logistics or hotel room expenses. It was going to be in his backyard, so he signed up.
He has no illusion of being top in his age group or getting an invitation to Kona, Hawaii, the site of the Ironman World Championships.
"But I know I am capable of doing this. I am most confident about the run because I have been doing that the longest,'' said Thompson.
And how has the training affected the family?
"I am totally supportive of it. I think exercise helps our marriage. It makes us happy people,'' said Serena. "He is a role model for our sons. We hope they become healthy, active and have happy lives.''
The Thompsons met in Barrow, Alaska, while working at Ilisagvik College. Serena never exercised and was slightly overweight. They began by running the dirt roads together.
"I could only run for 10 minutes at a time, but Colin was patient with me. I went from being a crabby person to being happy,'' Serena says. They moved to Spokane in 1994.
Serena gets her running in whenever she can and ventures out four times a week. She is training for the Colbert Autumn Classic Half-Marathon on Oct. 4 and wants to learn how to swim.
"I doubt I will do a triathlon, but I am going to learn how to swim,'' she said.
And Thompson trains around the family schedule. He gets up at 5 a.m. to go swimming. On the days he doesn't swim, he runs or bikes his 15-mile commute to work.
He skips training on Saturday or Sunday so he can spend the whole day with the family. He is home every night for dinner.
"Anything you can do to help your kids start an active lifestyle is great,'' said Thompson. He adds ``I just can't not work out. I don't feel myself without exercise.''
It is a family-held value. Serena says "Everyone has different priorities. Our main priorities are having time together as a family, church and exercise.''
And the family will all be part of the event. Serena is signed up as a finish-line volunteer.
"Watching Colin finish will be huge for me,'' she says. "He has put so much into it. People just don't understand what goes into training for an Ironman. I am his biggest fan.''
Their boys will be running in the Ironman Kids Race on June 26. And Thompson's parents, Pete and Mary Jane Thompson, will be at the finish line. One of Thompson's role models is his father, who has completed every Bloomsday. And his three brothers and two sisters will be cheering him on from near and far, either live or in spirit via www.ironmanlive.com.
Thompson would also like to see lots of community support.
"I hope if someone has a dream of completing an Ironman, they would show up and watch the late finishers. It is an inspirational experience,'' said Thompson.
"Our community is lucky to have an event like this,'' adds Serena.
Thompson's next adventures will include Spokane's Troika Half-Ironman, the Coeur d'Alene Triathlon and the Spokane Marathon. He also has interest in adult hockey.
And maybe another Ironman.
Author: Jackie Van Allen Spokesman Review Staff writer
Caption: Triathlete Colin Thompson is supported by his wife, Serena, and their kids. Photo by Brian Plonka/The Spokesman-Review
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Today I took the long-cut home, which is something I love to do when I want to clear my head. I've been so busy with some projects lately that I needed a little break. When the boys are in the car, the second I take a left, instead of a right, I can hear the boys quietly moan to each other from the backseat, "She's taking the long-cut" (as opposed to the short-cut). It's torture for them - that extra 5 minutes. But I was alone and the long-cut sounded just right.
I needed to gulp in Autumn because it's beautiful and will be gone before I know it....
This morning is crisp and sunny and makes me happy....
I'm so happy to be here....
surrounded by the places and people that I love....
and getting to do what I do. And when I'm so busy - plugging away on projects that mean the world to me, well, sometimes it feels like I'm taking the long way, even when I can see exactly where I need to go....
but the short way isn't always the right way, even if it's easier. I'm taking my time - because these things need to be just right....
because in the end, I want to be happy with what I've created, where I've been....
and where I'm going.
I know that I'm blessed with a happy and simple life and on this morning, when I make my way to our new property, I'm feeling thankful. And when I take in the view from the spot where my new home office will sit, I can see that everything is just right.
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The day my business made a significant change, Colin came home and announced he had reached an agreement on our dream property. It was the best news I'd heard in a long time. But it meant big changes were in store for us. It meant we'd be selling our house and building anew. And just like that, the whirlwind began. And now, our home is officially for sale and we're living with a lockbox on the door, which will take some getting used to. But we're also living with the dream of our new home, in our favorite place on earth. I look forward to sharing my journey...
P.S. That darling vintage letter T (for Thompson) that you see on my front porch? It came from my friend (and Farm Chicks Show vendor), Lisa Souers. You can find her amazing products on her website or read more about her on her blog.
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This morning, we awoke to a chill in the air, and fog surrounded our prairie. As Lukie rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stumbled to the couch, he declared that fall had officially begun.
Another summer boredom buster for the boys is the "Super Egg". Each of the boys takes an egg and decorates it, and then packages it up in the best way they can think of so that it can survive a big drop off the deck. If the egg doesn't break, it is THE "Super Egg". And Super Eggs are the most delicious of all!
Last week, we awoke to a rare cool and drizzly summer day. We'd been itching to visit Garnet Creek, about two and a half hours away in our neighboring state of Idaho. It's the only place besides India where you can find Star Garnets. So Bongo, Lukie and I decided it was finally time. And by golly, no garnets, no glory we decided. And we hit the open road. Twisting our way into Idaho and through St. Maries, which I love. Being the daughter of a logger, I can't help but feel welcome there!
And through the woods we went
And after a little hike, we arrived. Turns out, a little rain makes a whole lotta mess at Garnet Creek!
We slipped and slopped about and made a big huge mess. But what a time we had!
And at the end of the day, Lukie and Bongo both had bags of newfound treasures. And we couldn't have asked for anything more.
Last night, we all headed out to Wildrose Prairie to volunteer at a bike race.
If you're going to race, the prairie is where it's at!
You've heard lots about my prairie that I love. And we are so lucky to live in an area where prairies are found almost everywhere you go. Life on the prairie is good!
When the weather gets really hot, we head for the swimming hole, where the trees grow tall and the water runs clear and cold.
We pack a picnic lunch, feast on thimbleberries, and celebrate childhood.
Goodbye comfy bed
Good morning, shoes... you'll wake me up, right?
Good morning, flowers... you make me happy
Good morning, apples... you're almost ready to pick
It's going to be a beautiful day.
I try and find fun things for the boys to do each day over the summer. One of their favorites is Toy a Day, where we can search for paper toy fold-up projects. They've really enjoyed it.
O beautiful, for spacious skies,
For amber waves of grain,
For purple mountain majesties
Above the fruited plain!
America! America! God shed His grace on thee,
and crown thy good with brotherhood from sea to shining sea.
(Pictures from my morning run on our beautiful prairie).
One of our favorite summer traditions are multiple trips to the berry farms located just minutes from our home. My children really love picking out their berry flat carrier and hopping on the tractor for the ride to the field.
There are always contests they dream up to see who can pick the most or eat the most and everyone leaves with red, strawberry scented fingers and red-ringed lips.
Tips for the trip:
We try to pick in the early morning to avoid the mid-day heat and to avoid "baking" the berries as they sit in the flats.
The boys always end up with strawberry stains on their clothing, but they are easily removed when I pre-treat them before washing with ERA detergent.
Grow your own Patch:
Strawberries are really
easy to care for and with some basic care at the end of the season, you
can enjoy strawberries fresh from your own garden.
Yesterday was the last day of school for our boys and we celebrated with a breakfast of Waffles and Strawberries. It was a great way to start the day.
So summer is officially declared in our house and I'm really looking forward to a special one. And as each year flies by, and especially now that our oldest son Cody has graduated, Colin and I are reminded that our jobs as full-time parents are so short. So while I get to be their mom, I want to make it as sweet a life as possible.
I'm giving the boys haircuts today, which makes me think about my grandpa (standing, second from right) and his barber shop. After he closed down his shop and came to live with us year later, he brought the barber chairs, seen in the photo. My brother, sister and I would spend hours on end playing in the chairs, pumping them up to go higher, and then letting them down, and spinning round and round. When our house burned down, I was so sad we lost those chairs. At least we have the memories.
Yesterday was a youthful day. After a haircut from the best stylist ever, she surprised me with a little gift:
Cute, right? And it opens up to reveal two little tubs of lip gloss. It reminded me of my 4th grade year, when all my friends had themed lip glosses, which I adored, but was unable to afford. Now I have my very own! Thanks, Annie!
And later, with lips glossed, my friend Stacey and I made it to the Kellie Pickler/Taylor Swift concert, where we were surrounded by little girls who would probably love my new lip gloss just as much as me.
One of the boys has a habit of writing on his hands, which I really don't like. But I understand that his mind is constantly whirring away, and he wants to doodle and write random things. So, I came up with an idea for tiny pocket journals that he could keep in his pocket - available whenever he'd like.
When his brother's saw the journals, they wanted some too. Now they're all sporting pocket journals and are as happy as can be.
Lukie (also known as "Mr. Blue Sky" in our house) turns 10 today, which is a huge deal because as he explained yesterday, "I'll no longer be a single digit!"
Colin and I are off for a few days to someplace warm. I always call these getaways a honeymoon, because it still feels that way, even after all these years. I love this man.
We had a nice and cozy Thompson New Year's Eve. I spent the early evening whipping up cupcakes and then Colin and I enjoyed visiting with our friend and neighbor Leilani. While we all chatted upstairs, the boys watched movies downstairs. Then we all gathered on the deck for some crackly beautiful fireworks. I love how Leilani's house glows in the background.
About 150 miles into our 280 mile trip to Seattle, we realized that trick-or-treating right before a roadtrip is a really bad idea. Especially if too many Twix are consumed. And I do have to admit that for a split second, I did cry just a little on the inside when I had to sacrifice a Cath Kidston pillow to catch the vomit produced by the Twix overload. And then a second Cath Kidston pillow. And then a Farm Chicks tote. Poor Micah. Poor us. Poor car.
After a good night's sleep and recovery from the vomit incident, we headed out for a family baseball game at Green Lake, visits to Pike Place, the baseball card shop (where the boys have purchased so much that we're on a first-name basis), the comic book shop, and lunch at our favorite bagel shop.
The main event for our little roadtrip was a skateboarding extravaganza at Key Arena. Boy stuff. Their little eyes are still as big as raccoons after meeting these guys.
Back home, I'm happy to report that the pillows and bag have been thoroughly soaked and have made a full recovery as well. And Micah? He's Twix free and has vowed to never eat another as long as he lives. We all like that plan very much.
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