Sometimes You Just Need A Little...

Ever have one of those days?

The ones that just make you throw out all your own rules and head to the store?

And come home with this:

This one was all mine. I bought the guys their own so they'd leave mine alone.

Yeah. I had one of those days. It ended sweetly. (Bwahahaha.)

Today, while you read this, I'll be out for a run. It might cancel out the calories consumed out of the above little container. But it was good, dammit.

 I love you Ben. I love you Jerry.

***Ally
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Jane's Journey

Last night, I attended the debut of the documentary Jane's Journey. It's a film about the life of Jane Goodall. I only read about it yesterday morning, and as neither Hubs or The Boy wanted to go, I bought a ticket online and went by myself. It was shown in 500 theaters around the country and included live broadcast before and after with Dr. Goodall, and several others.

It was great. If you don't know her well, I highly recommend reading, watching or looking her up. There has been lots written and produced about her, and this is just a taste of her amazing life, her amazing drive, and her views on our planet.

A funny story she told, though, had me chuckling out loud.

Random fan: "I loved that movie they made about you and the gorillas."

Jane: "You mean Gorillas in the Mist? About Dian Fossey?"

Clueless random fan: "Yes!"

Jane: "Did you see that movie?"

Clueless random fan: "Yes!"

Jane: "And you know she died in the end?"

Clueless random fan: "Oh yes!"

Jane: "And you see that I'm standing right here?"

Oops.

Yeah, Jane was the chimpanzee lady, not the gorilla lady. Must get your activists straight before making a fool of oneself.

I can't imagine, but she made it sound like it's happened multiple times.

On a side note, it didn't hurt to have a little clip with Mr. Dave Matthews playing guitar around the fire in a little cabin in Nebraska. Kinda made my night.

***Ally
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Where Is The Social Media Etiquette Line?

Do you think it is a sign of our social network society to post to Facebook from a memorial service?

A gal who went to high school with Lela and I (actually grade school through high school) lives her life on Facebook. Drives us nuts. You know the type. Posts every time she does anything short of going to the bathroom - when she goes to Starbucks, gets her nails done, sits on her deck with a cup of coffee, goes to the gym, gets on a plane, coaches her kid's soccer game. You name it, she posts about it.

She's an ex-flight attendant who still has flight benefits, so often flies halfway across the country from where she lives now, in the Mid-West, to Seattle, where we grew up, to attend various functions, family events, etc.

She posted from the moment she decided to come out for the memorial service of a older teenage boy (who died tragically in a drowning accident) whose family she knows. She posted she was coming. She posted when she was getting her nails done in preparation for coming. She posted from her airport, the airplane, and SeaTac airport. She posted from the memorial service, complete with "check in", and tagging other people there. Did I mention she changed her profile picture to a picture of the deceased boy for a whole week? This boy, who was not her boy.

Let me be clear. I don't doubt her love for this family or for this boy. But I tried to imagine how I would feel if I was this boy's mother. And I don't think my reaction would be a positive one.

Is it just me? Am I that out of touch? Or is this way over the line of appropriate?

10 Highlights From This Summer

Link up with Stasha at The good life for Monday Listicles. It's a different topic every week - follow along or create your own!

Fall is officially here. Surprisingly, we've been hanging onto summer a little longer than usual here in the Northwest, and it's been heavenly. The Monday Listicle topic this week was the highlights of summer. So here goes:

1) Rain, clouds, gray. Was that all we were going to get? Good grief, I thought it would never be sunny for more than one day. But August came, and with it, finally, summer weather = SUN.

  Sorry - took it with my phone.

2) Baseball. Some day I will miss spending every second of my free time going to baseball games. Or in this year’s case, getting ready for baseball games, only to get the call as we are ready to walk out the door, that the game has been rained out.

3) Playing tourist in my own city with Lela & her sister.

4) Pt. Defiance Zoo & Aquarium for July 4th.

5) RUNNING! It wasn't really summer that got me running, but my amazing physical therapist, lots of patience and self control, and some time to heal. But yes, this summer, I started running again, which makes me oh-so-happy.

6) Crater Lake. Incredible. Beautiful. Blue.

7) Reno with family. A long overdue visit. 

8) Home grown berries. My summer favorite. YUM.

9) My baby’s 17th Birthday!

 10) Sunshine. Did I mention the sun finally came out in August? And stuck around for September? Bliss.

Sure there was more, but those are some pretty good highlights for me. As much as I like summer, and would love to keep it around a while longer like 9 months a year, I will concede that I do enjoy fall. Beautiful leaf colors, pumpkins and cute boots. Okay, I'll give it a try.

***Ally
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A Hat's Brush With Fame

I occasionally post a bunch of things on eBay. Typically it's when my son has gone through stuff and has things to get rid of. I'll add a few things that I'm getting rid of, but he regularly makes more money than I do.  Which is what happens when you collected Star Wars and Harry Potter Legos as a kid.

But I digress.

I listed some stuff, 90% of it my son's. One item was a Boston Red Sox hat, brand new, that was a gift to him that was too big. It hung around his room for a few years and never got worn.

I don't ship internationally because I am lazy don't have time to stand around in post office lines to fill out customs forms and ship. I use USPS Click N Ship from home and just swing through and dump them in the box. No lines for me.

So the buyer of the hat was from Canada, which isn't a big deal, but it means I have to deal with the post office. I cursed out loud under my breath and sent a curt response message telling the buyer that they should check with the seller first, blah, blah, blah and gave her the shipping amount. Yeah, I kind of chewed her out.

Then, after opening my mouth, I inserted my foot. There was a message I hadn't seen. One in which she asked me to ship the hat Fed Ex using their shipping account to a movie set in Vancouver, BC. Sure enough, her email is from the "Set Dec" department of a movie.

So then I was apologizing, and making the effort to send the thing. First I tried to print a mailing slip online - but if you've ever tried to use the Fed Ex website without an account, you'll know that is somewhat worse than beating yourself in the head with a baseball bat.

Then I walked down the street from my office and asked the owner of the little shipping store. Problem is, she had told me to ship International Ground. Apparently, I was the first person in 13 years to ask for International Ground at that store.

So I had to wait until the next morning and go to the Fed Ex store near home. Okay, by this time I was putting a whole lot more effort into this than I ever intended. And I was growing irritated. Once there, I was told it would cost something like $22 on their account. But she had told me it shouldn't cost more than $15. Well, turns out that's what shipping was, but she hadn't accounted for the $7 Customs Entry Fee.

I started to leave, thinking I'd have to email her again, when Hubs put and end to it, telling my to just send the damn package, they were paying, and I was simply doing what I was asked. Done deal. I shipped. I maybe cursed again and stated that it better be a big movie, and I better be able to go to the theater and see that damn hat on the big screen. And maybe they should throw up some credits somewhere after the set caterer's cousin, stating that the hat was originally ours.

Then I went home and looked up the name of the movie. Holy Mother of the Biggest Names In Hollywood. The movie? Is been directed by and starred in by none other than Robert Redford. There are other names, too, like Shia LaBeouf, Stanley Tucci, Nick Nolte, Susan Sarandon, Chris Cooper and Julie Christie, to name a few.

I just may have softened my attitude a little. Because after all, my son's hat may get a brush with fame.

I'm just going to pretend I did this amazing man a personal favor.

***Ally

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Randoms

#1 I saw a school bus run a red light. Let me be specific. It wasn't in the intersection when the light turned red. It didn't enter the intersection on yellow. My light, allowing me to cross it's path, turned green BEFORE it entered the intersection. YIKES! I was appalled. I wish I'd been smart enough to write down the bus or license number.

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#2 The pain in the ass guy that lives in the house across the street (the one with the chirping smoke alarm) with his in-laws, parks every night in front of the fire hydrant. Right across the narrow street from the end of my driveway. My driveway that is at the very beginning of a curve and narrower at the end than it should be due to my douche bag lame incompetent builder. It's been riding my nerves. First, it's illegal. Second, I don't want my house to burn down because the fire department can't get to the hydrant. Third, it makes it a pain in the ASS to back out of my driveway. Fourth, (in case you need more), the house next door to us has a kid who legally parks on the street, but the combination of the two make it impossible for larger vehicles, including the mail man, garbage truck, UPS, Fed Ex and some larger SUV's to get through. For a short list of reasons I don't want to get into (including my husband's conspiracy theory that they are in the mob), I didn't want to be the one to walk my sarcastic self over there and tell him to move his car. But one of the neighbors must have had enough. Because yesterday? I watched a cop give him a parking ticket. WOO HOO!!!

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#3 This has been one of my worst periods. Three days now my back has been aching bad enough to make me want to just lay down. My mood is such that I want to injure people. Not all people, just idiots that may innocently cross my path. Don't judge or be scared, it only lasts a couple of days.

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#4 My first patient this morning is a regular patient who unfortunately graces my office straight from the gym, un-showered, with the worst smelling feet ever. He routinely grabs our bathroom spray and sprays his feet (and occasionally his un-stylish muscle shirt), leaving my treatment room smelling like lavender scented BO and smelly feet. NOT a good combination, I promise you. And then I have to try to make it acceptable for the next patient - who will undoubtedly already be waiting in the waiting room. I'm SO looking forward to going to work today...

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#5 I think electric pepper mills might be the epitome of modern day laziness. Really? We can't turn the top a few times?

Click here for full description.

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It's a grump-a-lump kind of week, I guess. Please refer to #3. It makes me whine and complain. Or wine and complain. Or both.

***Ally

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PS - I just found out that it was my son's girlfriend's mom who turned in the illegal parker across the street. She was afraid her daughter would hit his car. Turns out you can report it by email. (wish I'd known) Bless her. I owe her a drink. 

Wordless Wednesday - Still Picking

From our yard. Still. I love my late crop raspberries.

I have no explanation for the blueberries. They just keep coming.

 

***Ally

Sometimes Bad = Good

I actually wrote this post last week, but didn't use it for whatever reason. I had planned on doing Monday Listicles today, linking up with Stasha over at The Good Life, but it's been a rather long weekend. I'll get back on track soon. In the meantime, here's how I spent an evening last week. And it was blissful. In a bad=good sort of way.

I wasn't feeling too hot. Upset stomach, generally blah.

Hubs had a late training night, so it was just me and The Boy for dinner. I did NOT feel like cooking.

It was my lucky day because there was leftovers in the fridge. And instead of cooking a vegetable I knew I could make fruit smoothies and sneak some veggies in there.

"What's for dinner?" he asked.

"Leftovers," I said, trying to throw a positive tone in my voice, but waiting for the groan.

"So I can eat whenever I want?"he asked. There was no groan!

"Uh, yes?" Turns out it worked out well for The Boy, too. He wanted to get a workout in after homework, which meant not eating until much later.

So I grabbed my book and sunk into the couch with a blanket and read. And read and read.

It's been a really long time since I've taken the time to do that for more than 20 minutes. (Lately I've been reading a page and a half when I go to bed and falling asleep with the book in my hands. Which it turns out, is a VERY slow way to get through a book!)

And you know what? It felt awesome. I realized it's one of my favorite things to do. Sometimes feeling bad has some very good benefits!

***Ally
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Who's First?

Come on. They're only $6400. One for every bathroom, right?


If the big play button in the middle doesn't work,
use the one on the bottom.

***Ally
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Old Age Pact

I have an idea. Let's make a pact to prevent the generations behind us from going crazy while driving down the freeway. When we get "aged" - and by that I mean upper 70's, 80's and up - let's all swear not to drive on the freeway unless we sign a promise.

The promise will read:


I promise to use surface roads, avoiding the freeway, whenever possible.

I promise to never drive on the freeway if it will cause me anxiety, panic or any other condition that may endanger all the other drivers on the road.

I promise, that if I do drive on the freeway, I will go the speed limit. At least the speed limit.

If, for some unforseen reason, I am forced to drive on the freeway because there is absolutely no other choice when I am not really that comfortable with that uber fast speed limit, I promise to stay in the right lane. I understand that the "RIGHT LANE" means the one on the right. The far right. The one immediately next to the right hand shoulder. Not the one second from the right, and certainly not the one in the middle, but rather the one on the RIGHT. And NEVER the one on the left. Ever. Pinkie promise.

And if for some reason, my attention drifts and my foot comes off the gas pedal, and the person behind me gets tired of going only 50mph in a 60mph zone and they go to pass me, I promise not to suddenly become aware of how slow I am going and step back on the gas, effectively cutting the the other driver off.

That is all. I promise.


Don't you think it's a good pact?

***Ally

I Hear Chirps

Chirp

Here's the thing about summer in my neighborhood.

I hear chirps. And I'm not talking about birds.

Chirp 

What then, you ask?

My neighbors are apparently hearing impaired.

The neighbors directly across the street from me have had a smoke alarm chirping it's dead battery chirp for the last three summers. We hear it, because everyone has open windows in the summer. Obviously, we assume it continues all winter long, as well.

Chirp 

Tell me, how does one live with that thing chirping every 60 seconds?? And how on earth do you not JUST CHANGE THE BATTERY?

Because, when a battery dies in a smoke alarm in this house, it is lucky to get off 2 chirps before one of us is on chair ripping that thing off the ceiling and replacing the battery. And you have to replace the battery because they are hardwired into the house and will continue chirping for like an hour, even if you pull the battery out.

Chirp 

It's not like a single hearing impaired person lives there. There are two parents, a twenty-one-ish year old daughter and her husband and a 17 year old daughter. And occasionally a very aged grandmother. (She lives in another country and comes for several months at a time every year.) That's five and a half people! You'd think at least one of them would figure it out, right?

How do they sleep? Inquiring minds want to know.

Chirp 

***Ally
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PS - And about that daughter and her husband. My son better not be getting ANY ideas.


Chirp

My Hope For Us

On September 11th this year, I woke slowly, languished in bed and finally got up. I checked email, blogs, facebook, noting many comments and tributes to 9/11 on facebook and twitter. I read an essay in the paper that summarized one writer’s view of our country over the last 10 years, and agreed with much of it.

It was a regular Sunday, with no plans on the horizon until dinner time. I got dressed and drove to the trail head for my longer run of the week. I trudged along, thoughts spinning through my head - sometimes thinking about 9/11 and what I’d read, sometimes thinking about things to get done this week, sometimes thinking about how my SIL drives me crazy. Just random things coming and going.

I am a woman who sometimes runs alone, and I don’t bring my dog on my longer runs.  Though the path is well used by others on a Sunday morning, my senses are always on guard. I am constantly aware of my changing surroundings and the people around me. Sad, but reality.

I saw up ahead, a small cluster of people sitting on a rock wall at the side of the path in the shade. As I neared, I realized it was a mother and her two young sons. The youngest was perched in her lap and she held a stick in front of them. On the stick was a nice, long slug, and they were examining it up close and personal.

Despite my own desire not to be too up close and personal with slugs, it swelled my heart to watch this mother, out for a Sunday morning walk with her boys, taking the time to stop and learn and appreciate the world around them.

I continued on my way, my thoughts back to their random ping-pong in my brain. I went to my turnaround point and headed back the other way.

With a short ways left to go, I spotted the mother and her boys again. They were walking now, and she and the oldest were commenting on the half mile marker on the pavement. It read “0.5” in white letters on a blue rectangle. He was learning that 0.5 was the same as 1/2. He was repeating the information back to her to see if he had it right.

The world around us can change in a heartbeat; a second is all it takes to turn our world upside down. If there’s one thing I hope we learn from tragedy, I hope that we are all a little more inclined to take the time to appreciate our loved ones. To take the time to appreciate the world around us - to learn an unplanned lesson, to awe in the wonders of nature, to take the time to spend the time with those we love.

***Ally
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10 Changes Coming My Way

Link up with Stasha at The good life for Monday Listicles. It's a different topic every week - follow along or create your own!


Hubs worked from home for years. We all took that life for granted.

Then came the Big Layoff. Some contract work, still from home. Ugly, long job search. Three long years.

Regardless of what “they” say, it is very hard to get an interview, let alone a call back, in this economy.

But things turned around - they always do - and Hubs will be starting in a new position - as the owner of and insurance agency for one of the bigger insurance companies out there. He started 8 weeks of training, and then he’ll be up and going.

What this means - LONG hours in the office and out of the house, with after hours meetings with customers that can’t meet during the work day. We’re aware of that impact, but this is by far the best opportunity that has come his way.

There are some CHANGES coming our way:

1) He won’t be home to make dinner. My husband cooks - don't hate. And on the two nights a week when I work until 6 with a 40 minute drive home - he cooked dinner! Okay, I admit it, he cooked some of the other nights, too. And he does dinner dishes. Did dinner dishes.

2) He won’t be talking to me while sitting at his desk upstairs, while I am downstairs with the dishwasher running, music on and the dog barking, and expect me to hear him.

3) He won’t leave his dirty lunch dishes laying on the counter until dinner time, figuring it’s more efficient to just do the dishes one time.

4) I won’t have that blessed quiet time in the mornings to myself anymore. The time that Hubs used to sleep until 7:30ish and I got an hour to make The Boy’s sandwich and then read blogs. Nope, both of them are now up at 6 and out the door at 7. They are underfoot in the kitchen, making noise in the bathrooms from 6 to 6:30, when I get up. They make a breakfast mess in the kitchen and then bolt out the door.

5) I will have quiet time in the afternoons on my early work days. The Boy comes home from school and buries his nose in homework in his room, so he’s no problem. The rest of the house is mine. The tv, the radio, the silence. All mine.

6) And my full days off? A quiet house. All day. Just me. I don’t even know what I’ll do with that time, but I’m sure I’ll think of something fun off the 843 things on my “to-do list”.

7) I will be the one who runs out of hot water for my shower in the morning, being third in line, as Hubs and The Boy will both have showered between 6 and 6:30. Teenagers take long showers. He sings to himself while he wakes up in there. He thinks it’s his own personal spa. We’re working on that.

8) I realized I’ll now be the one to take the cars for their emissions tests every other year! I kinda liked that he would cut out on a weekday and do that and I didn’t have to waste my time doing it.

9) He won’t be sitting upstairs at his desk for me to talk to every time something pops into my head. I never realized how much I took that for granted when he was home.

10) Oh crap! Am I going to have to mow the lawn? Nah, I have a teenager for that. At least for two more years.

I'm sure there are many more to surface, but right now we are adjusting. It's been a long time since we had this sort of schedule!

***Ally
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Unwelcome House Guests

They are not welcome here.

And in case my poor photography (I was too lazy to go get the good camera) makes it hard to tell, they are WASPS. Nest after nest (EIGHT to be exact) of them. It's a yearly battle on the south side of our house. There's a pop out there behind the gas fireplace, and they find it to be a wonderful place to make their homes right there under the eaves. Including the vent of the fireplace, as you can see.

We usually hose the empty nests down with water after they leave for the winter. Last year, we had the eaves painted, and the nests were all scraped away. But they're baa-aaack! Little effers.

Unfortunately, it appears they've invited their cousins, the Jellow Jackets, this year. I haven't found their nest yet, and am not sure I want to go looking. They are staying around that side of the house away from us. They are continuing to pollinate my raspberries - that's a good thing, right? Sadly Fall is right around the corner. They'll go away, and I can take care of the nests in the relative safety of colder weather. (Before I turn on the fireplace!)

In the meantime, I get the itchies when I think about it, now that I have realized they are there. 

Anyone know how to keep them from coming in the first place??

***Ally
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Watch Out, Moms Of Boys

Watch out for The Girlfriend.

She’ll demand his time - and they’ll want to spend part of that time at her house. With her family.

She’ll be a good influence on his manners, and then she’ll nag him like a wife.

She’ll help him pack for a weekend camping trip by standing at his closet, going through his clothes with familiarity - something you usually help him do.

She’ll text him constantly. And he’ll text her back. Constantly.

They’ll talk on the phone every night. And she’ll sweetly tell him to tell you ‘hello’.

She’ll tell him what to get rid of and what to keep when he goes through old stuff.

She’ll take over his room decorating project as if it’s theirs instead of his.

She’ll step all over a mother’s toes, treading in her territory, slowly stealing bits of her place in his life.

And she’ll leave a mother wondering if she should check herself, in case this girlfriend some day becomes a daughter-in-law.

Gah. I can barely even entertain that thought! They are SO young, yet they've been together a year and a half. And unlike most teenage couples, they hardly ever argue. Scary. Don't get me wrong - she's a nice girl. But it has been quite the experience to watch the possessive mother in me rear her head - at least in my mind. ☺

***Ally
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What A Difference A Year Makes



Nick-8th grade

Nick-First day of 9th grade

Dear Parents of Teenagers,

Do not give up hope.  Since my son started school it has been a constant battle to wake him up, eat a healthy breakfast (cookies and Pop Tarts don't count), and make it out the door on time for school with lunch and schoolwork.

A trick I used once when he was four years old went like this:

Cute, adorable son:  I don't wanna get dressed!

Younger, smarter me:  You get dressed or I will dress you.  But I get to pick the outfit.

Cute, adorable son:  I am not getting dressed!

Younger, smarter me: Then you are wearing this.  (Here is where I grabbed an old Teletubby costume out of the closet.)

Cute, adorable son:  No comment.  He quickly put on his jeans and t-shirt.

Years later I had to open his curtains and throw back his blankets just to wake him up.  And forget about homework!  We tried forcing him to do it at the kitchen table under our watch, followed by purchasing a desk in his room.  The desk has been covered with gum wrappers and jock straps for almost a decade.

The middle school era was a blur of last-minute projects and forgotten lunch money.  But then, something happened.  High school.

The night before his first day of freshman year, he made his own lunch.  Weird, I know.  That was followed by another miracle the next morning at 6:10am.  He woke up!  I tried my chances and asked him if I could make him breakfast.  Instead of grunting or ignoring me completely, he said, "Sure, Mom.  You can make me an egg."

What was happening?  It gets worse better.  He ate his breakfast and said "Thanks, Mom."  Then he brushed his teeth, sprayed on some more Axe Body Spray, grabbed his things and headed to the front porch to wait for his ride.  But before walking out the door he gave me a hug.

There really is hope.

-Lela

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Three Day Weekend Glory

Oh how I love the three day weekend. Which for me is a four day weekend because I have Friday's off. Don't hate.

Friday we gave Bank of America the big 'Buh-Bye' and moved our money to a credit union. We'd been talking about it for a while, but finally did the deed. Hubs has to open some new business accounts anyway, so the time was right. No more trying to make sure I have BoA's $750 minimum balance (soon to increase) always in the account to avoid their $10 monthly service charge (soon to increase). I get truly free accounts now.

Then we went to prop up the retail economy. After all Hubs now needs to go back to wearing shirts-ties-jackets or suits, as he starts training for his new career today. Something he hasn't had to do in over 10 years, so he was a little short of wearables in that department. A couple of jackets, a couple of pants, 5 shirts and 5 ties later.... Thank goodness for Labor Day sales. So when you see those weekly retail economy stats come out in the paper this week - you can thank us. That stuff is not cheap. (Oooh, and I got this super cute little cotton jacket that I actually cannot wait to wear! Shhhh, we were only supposed to be shopping for HIM.)

Of course, after shopping at national chains, we felt the need to support local business, so we went to the taproom at a local brewery for a 'recovery' drink. Ahem.

And then to show our community support, we went to the high school football game to watch my son's school team (he doesn't play football - just supports the team in the school section) STOMP the other team 47-0. I actually felt sorry for the other team. They had about 1/3 as many players, and even though our team pulled their starters and they didn't stop the clock for anything the fourth quarter, it was kind of ugly. But it was a beautiful night. We commented how in  just a few short weeks we'll be wearing winter coats, gloves and scarves and bringing blankets to the games!

And that was just Friday!

Saturday we attended a Craft Beer Festival (got the $25 tickets for free!), because, of course, Hubs is into the craft brew scene as I've indicated before. That was some people watching galore. Wow. There was a guy in a kilt that was staggering drunk when we got there, and three hours later when I left, he was still drinking. Or trying to. Of the last beer I saw him try to throw back like a shot of tequila, more ended up on his shirt than in his mouth. Which was probably a good thing. There was the girl that tried to order her food in the food pick-up line instead of the ordering line. The outfits - oh my, the outfits! I ran into the director of the school I work for. She'd been there a while, if you know what I mean! Ahem. It was quite the event, sunny and PACKED - you got 10 tasting tickets - each good for a 5 oz tasting. I only used 5 of mine and donated the rest to the guys working the hand roasted coffee booth - they were accepting them as tips for their free coffees, and much appreciated my donation :).

You gotta love the names of beers and breweries:

But the best part came Sunday & Monday when my new kitchen sink, new faucet and cabinet hardware were installed! Yay! No more chipped sink and leaking faucet. And after 10 years, we installed hardware on the cabinets that, as far as I'm concerned, should have been installed by our builder! Now I'll be shopping for tile for the backsplash.

No, I didn't make Hubs work ALL that time, and I did help. Hubs and I went for a four mile run on a great trail nearby on Sunday morning. We grilled Mediterranean Salmon with The Boy and The Girlfriend Sunday night (YUM!), and Hubs and I did some errands Monday afternoon after a morning home with The Boy (before he bailed on us for The Girlfriend - I will likely be writing about how easily a girlfriend can step on a mother's toes, very very soon).

For your gastro-enjoyment, I give you Mediterranean Salmon Bake:

1/2 cup mayo
1/3 cup green olives with pimento, diced
1/4 cup fresh parsley, chopped
1 TBS lemon juice,
1TBS capers, drained, chopped fine
1/2 tsp Worcestershire sauce
1/4 tsp pepper
1-1/2 pounds salmon fillet (buy wild caught salmon. really.)

Combine all ingredients except salmon in a small bowl and mix well. Let sit in fridge 1/2 hour if possible. Lay salmon (skin side down) in baking dish (for oven) or on foil (for grill). Spread mixture evenly over top. Bake or grill until salmon is just opaque throughout. (Salmon will continue cooking for a few minutes once removed from oven) Serve hot.

But I'm here to tell you - this stuff leftover cold out of the fridge the next day is a treat all over again! Wish I had thought to take a picture, but I'm usually stuffing my face as soon as it comes off the grill. Hubs doesn't even like olives, but my whole family LOVES this stuff.

***Ally
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Happy 3-Day Weekend!

Hope you all are enjoying a wonderful 
3-Day weekend! 

We'll be back tomorrow!

Ally & Lela

PS - It's the first drop dead gorgeous Labor Day weekend we've had in Seattle in so many years I can't remember the last one. It's heaven and I'm enjoying every second!

 Tacoma, Washington

Red, Red... Paint

This is what it used to look like. That's the mural of Safeco Field I painted when he was 6 or 7.

And now. Those are Rolling Stone Magazine covers framed there. The red wall was still tacky, but he's got two framed Platinum Sales Awards from a real rock band to hang up. Real ones. It helps to know someone who knows someone. (That's a reflection on the red wall, not a bad paint job!!)

The inspiration for the red wall - to match the drum set, of course!

That guitar on the wall is a clock. A really loud, annoying clock. And it lights up. With neon.

Here are some hints when your teenager wants a red wall in their bedroom:

1) Just say no. What? Okay, fine, I said yes, too. Keep reading.

2) Don't think for one second you can get a red wall with 2 coats of paint. Bwahaha...

3) When they ask if you want the paint with the primer in it, say YES! No, SHOUT YES!

4) Go ahead, buy separate primer - but it won't save you a coat of paint - it's just one more coat of paint!

5) When the teens want to do it themselves, remember that the other lighter gray walls they are doing are easy to hide first timer mistakes on. Mistakes on red walls end up looking like someone was murdered in the room. Do that wall yourself. I did. Despite saying I was giving them freedom. After struggling through the other three walls of gray, you should have seen the looks of relief on their faces when I offered to do the red wall.

6) Know that what you expected to take a couple of hours will take the rest of your afternoon, part of your evening and another two hours the next day. Because, after all, this wasn't your project.

7) Enjoy the look on your son's face when it's all done. He's happy. He's hanging artwork he already has, and planning what he's still going to buy/acquire. He's loving his new room.

8) Pat yourself on the back. You refrained from interfering at the right time, and offered (not took over) to help when they really needed it.

9) Pour a glass of wine. Maybe two.

***Ally
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Sticks And Stones

My family calls me a lot of different names, not all of them flattering. 

On our recent vacation I was in charge of the map.  (Yeah, I said map.  We have a Garmin, but I like to go "old school" with a paper map and highlighter pen.)  I was so excited when I announced, "I'm the navigator!"  Only to have my hilarious son say, "Don't you mean 'navi-guesser'?"  Ha-ha.  Very funny.

I have also been called the "Mommy-saurus" due to the not-so-quiet way that I stomp walk around our house.   I have to kinda agree with that one, but did they have to compare me to a dinosaur?

The next name is the worst.  It's also NOT true.  I don't even know when it first started but I am sure it stemmed from a time long ago, when I said such ridiculous things as:

"You may not have a gun, knife, or pet snake."
"I am not buying that!"
"Wear your helmet."

The name that my son and husband call me is  . . . Fun Ruiner.

Unless, of course, they want something.  Then my son calls me "Mother" and my husband calls me "Baby".

-Lela
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