Thank you, thank you, thank you

What I did over summer vacation

I haven't updated the blog since early June because I've been struggling with a chronic case of glum. I know, I'm a very bad blogger. It's just that summer is always an unpleasant time for me — the heat, no school, no money ... blah, blah, blah. And to top it off, we moved AGAIN. (I'll talk about this in a later post. There will also be a house tour, not quite Apartment Therapy style, but a tour nonetheless.) But I'm back, for now. The gloomy haze is finally on the retreat. Despite my malaise, tons of stuff has happened. Hopefully, this VERY LONG POST will heal whatever wounds I've inflicted on my four readers. (Sorry, Michael!) I promise new, exciting posts every week from here on out.

He wanted a hammock, but got a painting

David's birthday was in June. What do you get for a guy who has hundreds of CDs, records and books? Money's been tight, so I had to get creative. I've always been the person who gives handmade gifts whenever possible. I love scribbling out odes and poems for my people. But I've given those types of things before. I thought about it for a while, then decided to do something I've never done before — paint. And not just an abstract piece, but a portrait of the birthday-boy himself. I took art in high school, but never attempted anything on this scale. I used acrylic paint on a fairly big canvas. I sketched first, then got to work. I'm not a genius painter by any means, but I'm satisfied with the end result. It's sort of quirky and I like that. The birthday boy was in shock. And I'm sure he loves seeing his head as he walks through the living room every day. Ha! I had so much fun painting. It's my new thing.

Padre party

My sister also celebrated a birthday in June. The big 40. So her friends threw her a surprise bash at the newly renovated Padre Hotel downtown. The rooftop bar was the perfect backdrop for our pomegranate margarita swilling and appetizer nibbling. A random man bought us all a round of drinks later that night. Free drinks and cake. It was fun.

(My mama, my sister, and me. They made my sis wear a pink boa.)

(My drink and a cool clutch.)

(My mama and me. Don't I look like a vato chick at the fair? All I need is bandanna on my head and hoop earrings.)

(My mama in her new threads purchased for the occasion. She looked hot I tell you.)

(I was taking many random pictures throughout the evening.)

(The cake finally appeared.)

(Part of the hotel, looking up from the rooftop bar.)

Amanda's wedding

At the end of June David's sister, Amanda, got married. We traveled to Rocklin, Ca., for the event. Liam and August were the cutest little ring bearers ever. Their outfits were adorable. They had to bribe Liam with cookies to get him down the aisle. The wedding was incredible. Amanda chose vintage china, old knickknacks, candles and delicate flowers for all the tables. It was shabby chic at its finest. Oh, and Amanda looked so beautiful and most of all, happy.

(Liam, Grammy and August walking down the aisle.)

(After the ceremony. August was fascinated by the grass.)

(Liam drinking lemonade.)

Let's go to the beach

We wrapped up summer vacation with a quick day trip to the beach. Had lunch at Brad's in Pismo. August loves fish. Liam? Not so much. Then we headed north to escape the hordes, and ended up in Cayucos. I hadn't been there in years. The kids played in the sand and I of course took way too many pictures. It was there, sitting in the sand watching my beautiful boys bounce around that I decided that being depressed is for the birds. I've been getting better ever since.

(My happy little man.)

(Liam and Daddy racing by the water. It was straight out of Rocky 2.)

(Liam finally ventured into the waves. I've never seen so many smiles.)

(My family silhouetted.)

Stay tuned for more adventures, decorating stories and general randomness ...

He said he like my boots ...

The day started with a perfect cake doughnut from Smith's.

David surprised our little family with baked goods and oh, my stars and garters — his presence. He's been working so much lately that having him around when the light is still crisp and the coffee's fresh was a welcome change. We spent a lazy morning reading books, hoisting a chubby Gus and laughing at our clever Liam. For those of you who might be interested in the minutiae, David's reading the last Harry Potter book (bleh) and I'm entrenched in "The Weight of Silence." I took several mental Polaroids hoping to freeze the morning because I knew we had other things to do — as we always do when David has a whole day off. But the entire day turned out to be one of those that you file in away and talk about later.

We ventured to the mall. Ugh. Surprisingly, the place was docile and actually pleasant. David spotted the VW toy machine, then Liam did. They're obsessed with Volkswagens these days.

Despite my better judgment, I wore my silly knock-off boots from Target with my rolled up jeans ... totally dorkified and not remotely chic. Like women in these parts need to be wearing boots, it's so not cold enough. Feeling sort of absurd in my "trend on it's way out," I wasn't expecting what happened next. My sweet husband, unaware of my insecurity, commented on them as we got the kids out of the car:

"I think you look cute in those boots."

When you're with a person long enough they start to know what you're thinking ...

We were so tired from our mall jaunt that I decided to whip up a quick dinner a la Vons. My store is WinCo, so Vons is always an eye-bulging experience for me. But it's close and the deli selection is good. I grabbed a roasted chicken and heirloom tomatoes to toss over romaine, pre-made tortilla soup and french bread. I also found freezer paper. This is important for a future post involving crafts. Score, freezer paper!!!

Our babies napped as I prepared our Vons cuisine and the Beatles wafted through the house. I've been gathering decorations that I've had around the house for Thanksgiving, so I grabbed a few candles for the table. We don't normally dine by candlelight, no, normally it's Liam's mission in life to turn on every light in the house. But tonight's soft glow made me feel warm and happier than I've felt in while.

Later we ate chocolate cake and strawberries, prompting the blonde boy to say:

"I sure do like cake."

Four years beotches!

Four years married: almost 10 years together = ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

Mama and Daddy (a.k.a. Cindy and David) did it up, Bako-style for our fourth wedding anniversary on Thursday. It was unequivocally Bako because we dined at Red Lobster, which isn't my favorite place in the world. Although I have been known to smuggle out the errant cheddar biscuit in my purse. But the way I see it, special occasions and chain restaurants go together about as good as Obama at a steakhouse. Despite the overly salted food, we enjoyed ourselves. Afterward we saw "Whip It," giggling amid handfuls of Reese's Pieces and Milk Duds. We got a little goofy with the iPhone after the flick. Being away from your parental responsibilities for a couple of hours will do that to ya.

October is THE best month to get married in. Congrats to my fellow October alums: Brock and Melissa and the newly minted Arlene and Guillermo. We're just waiting on Korinna now!

Snow-globe shakeup

The older I get the more I think about growing up in the '80s. Saturday-morning cartoons, Duran Duran, Bob's Big Boy ... weekly treks to the video store. The hallowed VCR — our sanctuary on Friday nights. "Falcon Crest" wasn't big in our house. We wanted MOVIES! So my dad would drive us to our video store (independently owned mind you) to pick up a movie, two if we were splurging. Every '80s one-off movie I've seen probably came from that store on Niles Street. I distinctly remember how excited we were to bring home "A Night In the Life of Jimmy Reardon." River Phoenix with big hair, what could be better, right? WRONG. The movie sucked. But "going to the video store" became an institution in our house and my memories surrounding it are some of the best I have. And I guess that leads me into this post: making memories out of ordinary things.

With Baby G due to arrive in a month, we've had quite the schedule at our house. We're staring down a new dirt road and I can't help but feel like others around me are too. Dirt roads may evoke a negative image for some, but not me ... I love a rutty dirt road. But with that said, the crossroads for some are harder to bear. The newspaper laid off 25 more people recently, breaking the the hearts of many of my journalism friends. I blame Twitter. Just kidding — only slightly. Also, my dad was forced into "early retirement" thanks to a lackluster oil industry. Forty years of grit all for a so-so severance and "Hey, it's been swell." But that's OK. Dad's dirt road is paved in Oregon green. He'll finally get to build his hot rod and bask in four seasons.

To take our minds off the rigmarole of a bad economy, we've sought out our own affordable adventures — when we have a rare day off together.

Here's David and Liam checking out "duckies" at our zoo, otherwise known as CALM. The boy was agog at all the animals, and loved it when a goat licked his hand.

And speaking of animals ... this neighborhood cat has taken a liking to Mistar Blond — Liam's latest nickname, courtesy of Mom. As you can see, this cat is huge and likes to chase you. It waits for Hot Dog to come out and play on most days.







Like most media-obsessed Americans, we have our shows we faithfully record. "Lost" is getting good this season — finally. But I'm afraid "American Idol" is a shoddy excuse for entertainment. But we still watch it. But, our reality fix lately can be summed up in one word, Dog. David recorded a "Dog, the Bounty Hunter" marathon, and it was like watching that first batch of "Sopranos" episodes. We were glued to the TV. For Halloween this year, he'll go as Dog and I'm gonna rock the hell out of Beth, that's all I'm saying.


Another adventure on the cheap was a drive to Kernville for a day of winding roads, river revelry, breezy air and a French dip at the cafe.

Here's David and Liam contemplating the rapids.

We've also discovered Fresh & Easy markets. I LOVE THIS PLACE. They actually have "hybrid-only" parking near the front. Oh, and their hummus is the best.










Liam update: He's all about robots these days, calling everything that remotely looks like one, "a robota." David picked out a toddler version of Optimus Prime and we also got him "Wall-E" on Blu-Ray. Hopefully these items will give him solace when his whole world is shaken like a snow globe in a month.

Mama got the 24-inch iMac ...

My crazy husband surprised me with a new computer on Christmas. Crazy, crazy, crazy WONDERFUL man.

The boys in action

A band and Bug

So, Paul's cozied up in my rocker flipping through US Weekly. John's in the tub, one leg dangling over the edge while bubbles waft through the air. George has just put the tea kettle on, and Ringo's chasing my cat from room to room. The British invasion has happened.

It started with an autobiography purchased months ago finally being picked up. My husband opened the door and the Fab Four just waltzed on in. "Abbey Road" and "The White Album" play on endless loops via vinyl. My kid dances a jig. I smile.

I'm not complaining about my new house mates, just setting up the chain of events. So with the Brits in full swing, David decides to finally fulfill a dream. As a little boy living in the East Bay he longed to someday own a VW — I don't understand this, my dream involves a '55 Chevy. I think the boys from the band played a role in our newfound weekend ride. Thanks, mates.

George is my favorite, he can brew tea in my kitchen anytime.

The hangnail moon got me thinking ...

Musical tastes are such a sacred thing, aren't they? Case in point, me and my muchacho. For the record, we both consider ourselves eclectic connoisseurs of the tunes, but sometimes the stars don't align so perfectly. After seeing many references to Coldplay's new album I felt compelled to see what all the fuss was about. I had read that frontman Chris Martin was rumored to be lyrically obsessed with death, which didn't sound too appealing. I bought it anyway. I love music, but I don't seek it out on a daily basis like David does. He has to have a constant soundtrack to life.

David's daily soundtrack sample:
Washing dishes: Pink Floyd
Watering plants outside: Richard Buckner
Watching an Angels game on mute: Some crazy metal band
Washing the Honda: Flogging Molly


As Coldplay's string-filled melodies cascade in my head, David is jabbering on about wanting to pick up the new Judas Priest CD. I swear, sometimes his musical ramblings sound like water gurgling down the drain. I try to listen, I really do. But Judas Priest? I don't care that this is their first studio album in eight years, or that the singer dude's gay and has an uber IQ. My mind-wandering during his Rock Jeopardy spiel is perhaps payback for the label he so eloquently gave some of my favorite bands: Sad Bastard Music.

But in the end on home-cooked meal nights with our little family, it's always Patsy Cline.

Tomatillo! Tomatillo! Tomatillo!

Not only does David save lives, he cooks gourmet Mexican feasts, too. Just your average Tuesday night, and voila ... mouth-watering mesquite-grilled chicken with a tomatillo-anaheim chile-cilantro sauce paired with a side of ranch beans/rice (homemade) and grilled corn on the cob rubbed in chili powder. No special occasion. He just "felt like cooking." And surprise, he prepared dessert as well: grilled peach halves that had been soaked in honey and cinnamon and a scoop of vanilla ice cream. I would have snapped a pic had I not been licking my dinner plate. Forget about the California king keeping this marriage together ... it's all about his inner chef mojo.

The six W's

Why do I still have a gazillion lemons after giving bags and bags away? And why, for that matter, is citrus season not in the summer when people like to sip on margaritas and lemonade? Lemons are like lobsters — treasured until they infiltrate your life.



Why do I deserve a man who cooks meals like this? I don't eat a lot of red meat, but when I do, I like to gnash on filet mignon. J'adore, mon chere. J'adore.


Why do you suppose a 15-month-old who runs to his highchair in anticipation to "feeeeeeet" would fall asleep during a meal? Must have been the velvety filet mignon. (Same night).



Why oh why did I have to inherit my beloved granny's non-existant lips? And why does my nose look enormous here? This is why I take the pictures, not pose in them.



Why does this kid turn into a Tasmanian devil when I leave the room for two seconds? Kleenex, score!


Why do boys sweat when they sleep?