The unveiling...

Before E and I left for the holidays we had one last visit to the doctor. We had an ultrasound, and check out our little guy now! He's weighing in at 8 oz. (at least he was on the 19th) and he's looking healthy and (apparently) happy. And that's right - I'm saying he. Check out picture number 2 for the nitty gritty there - the sonographer even circled the goods for us!
Otherwise things look good and he looks healthy. All his organs are developing as expected. They are concerned that my placenta is too low, so they've put me on reduced duty - no running, no heavy lifting, no straining. Oh, and that means FULL pelvic rest too. We've got another appointment on the 6th and hopefully things have shifted around at that point and I'll be able to resume... Jogging.

Enjoy the pictures!

A Rube Goldberg mess

This little thing is a Jeep Liberty water pump and gasket. Apparently, this is the source of my inability to drive, the terrible noise E first heard, and all car problems to date. What happened, seemingly, is that this device, which keeps the engine from overheating (I've learned - why don't they call it a coolant pump?) stopped functioning in my Jeep. When this happened, a pulley seized up, which caused the belt turning on the pulley to spin and wear out (the high pitched whirring and the loud thunking). When the belt wore out, the pretty much all electrical in the Jeep stopped working, killing the battery in the process. This all rendered the car non-functional. Who would have thought such a small thing would cause such a huge mess? Like when an animal sneezes in the Serengeti, we never can be sure what repercussions our actions will have - including you, Jeep Liberty water pump.

The good news? The nice man at Rockwall Jeep/Dodge/Crystler was able to not only diagnose all of these problems in the early morning, but he was also able to repair them in a single day! Not only that, but he flushed the coolant and changed the oil while he was at it. I can't tell you how impressed I was with the customer service. Not only can you tell me exactly what the problem was but you can also have it to me by 4 pm? Fabulous! The fee? Not so fabulous, but hey, water pumps don't come cheap.

Thanks to all for your concern. I promise to listen to E next time about the noise. Oh, and if I hear a noise and lose power steering in the parking lot, I promise to call someone for a ride. No more driving home. That clearly doesn't work.

A thing I am particularly bad at

On a Sunday drive:
E: Has your car always made that noise?
A: What noise?
E: That high pitched squealing noise.
A: Er, I don't think so.
E: You don't think so, or you're sure.
A: Uh, yes.

Today:
After work I walked out to the car and started it up. The high pitched noise was still there. Before we all freak out, I had planned on taking it in on Friday to get it fixed, whatever it was. That was, until, instead of the high pitched noise I hear a loud pop and then a bunch of clunking. Then the noise was gone. The battery light came on, but otherwise, everything seemed to be running okay. I figured as long as I could get home, I could bring the car in to the dealership tomorrow. As I backed out of the parking space, I quickly realized that cars are much easier to drive when they have power steering, as mine didn't any longer. Oh well, I think. People drove for years without power steering. Surely I can drive home. That is, until about a mile from work when the radio shut off. Weird, but doesn't prevent driving. Until the lights started to dim. Then the speedometer quit working. Then, worst of all, the gas quit. I was the ridiculous person on the road whose car won't work, but apparently because all electrical stuff wasn't working I couldn't even turn on my hazards. I coasted onto a side street, sort of, and sat for a second weighing my options, which were few. I looked up the police non-emergency number on my phone and called them, because, well, I needed assistance. The police came and blocked the road so I wouldn't be crashed into by crazy frustrated commuters, and they also called a tow truck for me. The tow truck came and loaded up the Jeep and drove both me and it all the way to Rockwall where we left the Jeep at the dealership (for a fee).

Firsts for me: Calling the police to block traffic. Getting a car towed. Riding in a tow truck.

Lessons learned: Listen to E when he says to take the car in on Tuesday and not wait until Friday because that noise might actually be something serious and not something that can wait.

At least I learned a lesson.

Booked the babymoon

There's a trend (apparently) among expecting couples to take a babymoon, which apparently one last hurrah before the baby comes. Supposedly this is like a honeymoon, but seeing as how our honeymoon consisted of bikinis, champagne, tequila, and lots and lots of lounging on tropical beaches, I just don't see that as a fitting thing to do whilst preggers.

Instead, we're going to visit our friends in Denver! I know I've mentioned this before, but we actually booked tickets now. (What an amazing deal. Southwest, what did I do without you? Oh yeah, enjoy my flight more but pay more than twice as much for it.) We'll be in Denver from January 22nd until January 25th, which is, I realize, one of the coldest times of year to visit Denver. Maybe it will make me appreciate my Texas humidity more. I know it will give me a chance to appreciate my friends more. That, and visit all the resturants we miss so terribly since we've moved. You know, lots of our travel revolves around food...

Plus, this is right after our anniversary, so we're trying to bill it as a anniversary present to ourselves. Seems to be working.

Keeping up with the Joneses...

Pretty good for a first stab at holiday home decoration (outside).

Cubicle confusion

In an effort to be more seasonal at work, people have taken to putting up holiday decorations. Someone at work has a decoration for all of the different holidays that happen around this time, but to my knowledge, no one has decorations for all of them. This can apparently lead to some confusion by coworkers who aren't familiar with the holiday season in the states. Because everyone I work with has lived here for plenty of years, the only conclusion I can draw is that they have not been paying attention for any amount of time in their lives or they are just complete idiots.

Coworker (leaning on my cube wall): "I see D has put up lights and a tree."
Me (not looking up from my keyboard): "Yep, very festive."
Coworker (very serious): "I guess she celebrates Christmas and Kwanzaa."
Me (looking up): "Oh, that's interesting."
Coworker (gesturing to lights): "Well I can only get that from the lights - they're very colorful."
Me (with a furrowed brow, thinking he is surely joking): "Don't people just have colorful lights for Christmas sometimes?"
Coworker (with the air of someone who clearly knows more than you do): "I'm pretty sure the colors mean that she's celebrating Kwanzaa too. There are red and yellow and everything."
Me (sarcastically): "What about Hanukkah? I see some blue ones too."
Coworker (inquisitively, making motions to D's cube): "I guess maybe. We should ask."

Is he kidding? I can only hope so. Happy holidays people, whatever they might be to you. Or you can be like D, and apparently celebrate all of them.

Equatorial expansion...

There are things that change when you're pregnant. Lots of things. This is only natural. I can't expect to carry a baby to term and at the same time retain the same figure I've had for as long as I can remember. Case in point - the holiday party we attended on Saturday night. This event, which is held every year by the company we both work for, is a semi-formal affair filled with adults dressing either as if they were going to a cocktail party (the majority), as if they were going to prom (a minority), or as if they were going to a regular day at work (for shame). I typically try to avoid looking as if I were ready for prom and aim for the cocktail dress. I have a number of beautiful ones, and the one I wore to last year's holiday party seemed perfect. After all, we've moved states - we won't see anyone from last year. This dress is empire waisted - surely the small amount my stomach has grown will look like nothing. Right?

Er, maybe, if I didn't know what the dress looked like last year. I'll be the first to admit that my selfish desire to look fantastic in this dress makes me feel like a terrible mom-to-be. However, when I put on the dress and realized that I no longer can look directly at all of my feet, I turned into a self-conscious mess. I think when I look more like I'm expecting a child and less like I've just let myself go I'll feel a lot better about the whole thing. Right now it just looks like I have a new and fantastic appreciation for pie. And cake. And Blue Bell. And pretty much all Mexican food, especially those smothered with cheese.

E, who loves me very much and grows more excited about our child with every single centimeter of growth in my mid-section, tried to reassure, but let's face it, there was no denying that things had changed. I tried to take solace in knowing that at 17 weeks of pregnancy I can't fully expect to look the way I did before. And hey, those pregnancy pants are starting to look mighty comfy. This big belly thing might have it's perks after all. That, and I get a baby when it's all finished. You can't argue with a baby. They're too dang cute.

Internet, I've missed you so

Today is a monumental day for us - the internet is restored! We went away for the weekend, and when we returned... No service. Router = working, but internet = gone. I had no idea what a serious problem this would be for me until I decided to pay the electric bill. But how? With a stamp? I don't think so.

After two days of attempting to foil whatever internet gnomes had taken our beloved service away from us, E broke down and called the service provider. There are few times I hear him get so riled up as when talking to a service person. "What do you mean did I try restarting my computer?" I'm no better, so I am eternally grateful that he does this duty and saves me the trouble of talking to someone I don't know about exactly how I reset the cable modem.

Today E even left work two hours early to come and meet the cable repair guy. After two hours on the phone Tuesday night they came to the conclusion that the hardware they provided us was faulty. Of course, E had already reached that conclusion before he made the call, but I digress. The internet repair man came and repaired the cables leading into our house, which it seems were destroyed by a mongoose (or never installed correctly in the first place), and he replaced our cable modem, which now functions as an expensive doorstop at the cable company.

Hooray for the internet! Bills = paid. Email = read (and attempted to be returned, though I'm terrible at it). Blog = updated. All excellent for a Thursday. Now if only it weren't going to be so cold for our golf game tomorrow afternoon... Could the internet repair man fix that too?

Merry (early) Christmas to us!

E and I have the day off today, which we decided to capitalize on by shopping for Christmas gifts. This includes shopping for ourselves - though we pretend that it's all philanthropic and whatnot. I've been drooling over this Kitchenaid Artisan Stand Mixer for years now, and I've decided that I wanted it for Christmas. What else would be useful when you needed tot make 7 pounds of mashed potatoes at once? Nothing else will do! Fortunately for me, I'm married to a foodie whose desire for this machine matches mine. What is a couple to do? We have a perfectly acceptable hand mixer.

The only solution? Buy it for each other for Christmas! We've made a deal. No big surprise gifts are to show up on Christmas morning. We're both going to be too busy making pies and pasta (with the pasta attachment) with our new toy.

Mountains out of... antpiles?

These past two days at work have been ridiculous. I mean REE-diculous. We've done something innovative and fabulous, but because of infighting (what, never!) there have been an endless series of meetings to justify how fabulous this new thing truly is. I have gotten very good at saying things like "Yes we've thoroughly tested" and "No this doesn't affect existing functionality". Soon I expect to hear things like synergy and whatnot spewing forth. It's crazy! I think the fires have finally been put out and that everyone now agrees that this new thing should happen. I can only hope. I'm not sure Baby Hef enjoys my blood pressure being so high.

Blueberry goodness

There are few ways better to start a weekend than with blueberry pancakes. Especially ones with 100% pure maple syrup - none of this corn syrup mess that passes for pancake syrup. I'm talking about the stuff that has to be refrigerated after opening. He knows how I feel about this, so he's made sure to get the real stuff. The best part of this blueberry breakfast? Someone who loves me very much has made it for me on this, the first morning of the year where temperatures dip dangerously close to the freezing mark. So when I climb out of bed with mussed up hair and flannel pants and a sweatshirt (looking my absolute best), there he is, cooking me a delicious breakfast.

All in all, a great way to start a morning.

Weekend away at the Su-J

This weekend we visited my grandparents. There are few things in this world that Zoee enjoys more than heading to their place. (These include belly rubs, peanut butter, and sleeping in the sun on the porch, but little else.) My grandparents have a pond, into which someone can always be conned into throwing a tennis ball for retrieval. Seeing as how she's a retriever, this is quite possibly the best thing EVER. From the minute we got there until the minute we left, Zoee was seeking out new and innovative ways to find herself in the water. Needless to say, she's covered in mud and dirt and couldn't be happier.

It's bath time now - the happiness had to end sooner or later.

I promise not to turn this blog into baby-stravaganza but...

Today we got new ultrasound photos. Our baby actually looks like, er, a BABY! I wanted to share.

Our own history in the making

On today, November 4th, 2008, a day when history will be made and this country elects either our first black president or our first female vice president, E and I have big news of our own. We've been waiting to share, and in a break from following election coverage and reading about the election and being overwhelmed by the whole democratic process, we thought we'd post about it.
What you're looking at is exactly what you think it is. Well, except that it's already almost three weeks old. This is a picture of our baby - taken on October 15th. We were 9 weeks along then, and we're 12 weeks along tomorrow. Only one more week until we're past the whole of the first trimester!

I've been feeling fine, with none of the terrible things that happen to some women during the first trimester. I've been nauseous only a few times, and mostly it was because I let myself get too hungry. Being hungry while being pregnant is like nothing I've ever experienced before. When you get hungry, it is time to eat *NOW* - regardless of what is going on around you. I don't care if the priest is talking - if I don't eat right now in the middle of Mass I will quite possibly pass out. Either that or I might throw up and eat anything even resembling food all at the same time. It's bizarre, but apparently quite normal to feel this way.

My clothes still fit (but I bet if you knew me before you'd wonder if I'd stopped doing crunches or started really living it up with the Blue Bell). I'm still exercising, and I'm trying to get all my running in now as my doctor doesn't want me to keep running after 20 weeks. She says that elliptical machines and walking are good enough and that running will cause too much stretching. I have no idea what that means, but it doesn't sound pleasant. I had to give up my soccer team for the duration of the pregnancy, which really makes me sad, but hopefully they'll have me back after the baby is born and I've recovered.

We're really excited about Baby H. E has been amazing through the whole thing. He watches me like a hawk. He's there with a snack before I realize I need one. He makes me rest when I'm getting worn out and won't slow down. He even has a book called "The Expectant Father's Guide" that he has been reading. Sometimes he knows things even I don't! I couldn't ask for a better husband.

Anyway, that's our big story! Look for news on Isabelle Kay/Nathan Dean as things develop.

Happy Halloween!

Our halloween was low-key and nice. A couple of friends of ours came over with their son and we all had dinner and dessert - he discovered the fun that can be had on stairs! After they left, the trick-or-treaters started showing up, and it was an interesting evening. We live in a very family friendly neighborhood, so there are a LOT of kiddos looking for candy on Halloween. Here's a sampling of our favorite trick-or-treaters:

• The cowboy who rang our doorbell, said "Trick or treat!" (after being prompted by his mom), then walked off before getting any candy. Fortunately his mom pointed this out and he came back for some Snickers (good choice).
• The cheerleader who didn't say "Trick or treat!" at all, but instead said "Give me something small." E said, "Well, pick what you'd like." To this she said, "I'll take two!"
• The princess, storm trooper, and batman who rang our doorbell and then hid to the side, so when we opened to the door we only saw their parents. They then came bursting over from the side to "scare us". Because they were about five and their parents were there it wasn't too horrifying, but we pretended.
• The little princess who got a piece of candy for her little sister who was "tired and riding in the wagon instead of doing this all herself." (Said with indignation.)

All in all a productive Halloween. At about 9:15 pm the neighborhood teenagers (sans costumes) sheepishly rang the bell. At least they waited until all the little kids were done and we managed to unload the leftover candy on them. (Well, save for the Heath bars. I wasn't going to let it all go that easily.)

Autumn is upon us

This week marks the first week with sustained temperatures less than 80 degrees. People are ecstatic about this. For E and me, this week marks the first week we see anyone besides the most dedicated of dog-walkers and joggers out in the evenings. Who are these people? They live on OUR street? *Ehem* Right, I knew that.

Anyway, this week marked a sort of milestone in the household. Because it's getting to be "cold" and people are starting to notice a "chill", I felt like it was time to break out the sweaters. Today I wore a sweater all day long and was totally comfortable. I almost needed an additional pullover.

It's a lot like Colorado in early September. I'd take this weather for months if I could have it.

Five years, oil on canvas

When E and I decided to move back to Texas, it was one of the hardest things we'd ever had to do. Second only perhaps to moving away in the first place. When we moved, we'd been in Colorado for five years, and in that time made some pretty amazing friends. Our family is in Texas, but we'd managed to cultivate a pretty fantastic surrogate family up there too.

When we finally moved back, we were thrilled to be near family again, but there were definitely things about Colorado that we missed. I'm pretty sure the family knew this, because as a housewarming present, my dad and T gave us a piece of art done by T's uncle - Jerry McWilliams (he's great!). This particular painting is of Wolf Creek Pass in the fall. The frame we ordered for it finally came in, and now we can enjoy a little piece of Colorado even here in the Big D.

She only wishes every afternoon looked like this.

Corny dogs and Big Tex

This weekend my dad and stepmom came up for a weekend of the famous State Fair of Texas. Having grown up in Texas, it might be surprising to know that this activity is something that neither E, nor me, nor my dad for that matter had ever participated in. So we went at it with gusto. We arrived at the gate 10 minutes before everything opened, and we started our quest maximize fair time. We wandered through the midway, and then happened to find Big Tex, the larger-than-life cowboy who sounds an awful lot like Johnny Cash when says "Howdy Folks!". Right in front of Big Tex is Fletcher's Corny Dogs, home of the original and first ever corn dog. Nevermind that it was only 10:30 am, we decided to partake anyway. They were delicious. We looked at cars, we saw livestock, we watched some dogs perform an interesting frisbee show. (Let's see my dog do that!) We even looked at the sculpture of Annubis made entirely out of butter. It was a full and productive day. Oh, and we also managed to have plenty more fried food before the whole thing was over. All in all, a great day at the fair.

Today we're resting up and the weather is so beautiful that we've opened up the house. Zoee is loving this, and she's managed to find the small spot of sun in front of the office French doors. I imagine she'll only move enough to stay in the sun for the rest of the day.

The new guy

One of my more recent duties at work was to show "the new guy" around the office. The new guy is straight out of college and is energetic and enthusiastic about things that I can't muster the energy to be excited about anymore. I head down and meet him in his temporary holding pen (where he's been patiently waiting on us for the past two months) and walk him up to the area where we do "actual" work. I say "actual" because that's how he said it - with finger quotes and everything. It was pretty amusing.

The new guy is super pumped to find out where his cubicle is. He's very very excited about his chair and signing up for logins on the computer system. He can't stop raving about the break room. "You get to watch CNN on your breaks? That's AWESOME!" He has a billion questions. He's THRILLED to be involved in this project and can't wait to get started. He's especially excited that we leave early on Fridays. (Okay, I'm still excited about that one too.)

Something about showing this new guy around today made me wonder if I'd lost my gusto. Maybe I'm jaded by all the paper-pushing and cube-sitting and keyboard-typing. I think maybe I had too many meetings today. Regardless, tomorrow I'm going to try to be more excited about my chair.

Desparation

My dog is fiendish when it comes to her walks. She's very particular about them. We need to go promptly between 6 and 7 am (at least we get an hour of leeway there!) and we need to leave EXACTLY when we get home from work so that she can sniff her way around the neighborhood. Today we haven't left promptly upon arriving home from work, and she looks desperate. She packing maniacally - walking from her leash to us and staring at us with rolled back ears and sad eyes.

Why can't we leave? WHY?

We're leaving now... No worries. She'll survive.

Mr. and Mrs. Hefner go to Washington

This past weekend E and I had the exciting adventure of going to Washington DC for the wedding of a friend of ours. In addition to the wedding, this was also our vacation, along with a makeshift reunion of sorts for a bunch of our college and graduate school friends. We were REALLY looking forward to it.

We arrived on Wednesday and spend almost all of Thursday doing the tourist-y activities that DC is known for. We headed down to the mall with a group of our friends and visited the memorials. Just below E and I are standing inside the WWII memorial looking at the Lincoln memorial. You can see the Washington monument from there too, if you're looking the direction we're facing in the picture. After a bit of monument looking, we headed to some of the Smithsonian museums for some edu-tainment. It was great!
On Friday we headed to Georgetown to have breakfast with a friend of a friend, which was really fun and allowed us to see those stairs from the movie the Exorcist. Oh, and Georgetown too. After breakfast we headed out towards Dulles to the Air and Space Museum annex, where we got to see all kinds of amazing things, including this SR-71 Blackbird that J and I are standing in front of. It was HUGE!
Of course, we were there for a wedding, so here are all the guys at the rehearsal dinner. We're really happy for J and B, they seem really thrilled to be together and just a great couple. Words of wisdom offered to J at the rehearsal - Just smile and nod, she'll like you more.
Finally, we made it to the wedding. E was a groomsman, so here he is looking sharp in his tux between the ceremony and the reception. Congrats J and B! You guys looked great and we had a fantastic time too!

Mr. and Mrs. Fix-it

This weekend marked a first for us - the installation of something - permanently - into our house. After a few days of sitting in the office and complaining "I wish there was a fan in here!", E decided that it was his job, nay, his duty, to install one. So, one trip to our favorite big box home supply store later, and we have everything we need to replace our boring light fixture with a new and fabulous ceiling fan!

We opened the box and spread all the pieces out on the floor before even beginning to get started. We haven't even looked at taking the light fixture down. All the hundreds of tiny pieces lay on the floor in front of us - here's a small sampling.
It is at this point that E looks at me and realizes, "You know, I think I'm going to need a ladder for this." We don't own a ladder. We've been waiting for just such a situation to head out and purchase one. However, not wanting to bother with another trip out, he improvises by putting our kitchen step stool on four bed-risers from college. This seems awfully precarious to me, but he's more than satisfied. Fine. This seems to work.

In the end, more swear words were uttered than I can recall, specifically pointed at a certain drill owned by a certain husband and only one extra trip to the big box home supply store, he had the whole thing mounted and running like a champ. Good work! I'm enjoying it as we speak.

Flushed!

This morning started like any morning - wake up too early and in a bleary mix between sleep and awake, throw on appropriate exercise attire and head to the gym before work. This is in an effort to keep myself healthy and fit, not because I really LOVE seeing 5 am.

The item shown above is an essential part of my gym paraphernalia. As important as my water bottle and my towel, my iPod shuffle keeps me entertained whilst attempting to not stare and the ridiculously top-heavy guy next to me and wondering how I can make my shoulders look like that lady's. Not her. HER. Oh, wait, I meant while working out. I love the little shuffle. I wear it clipped to my shorts, completely out of the way.

In addition to being completely out of the way, clipped to my shorts is also, apparently, a very dangerous place to be when I have to take my last bathroom break before heading out in the morning. This morning the little shuffle lost it's vice-like grip on my shorts and went tumbling headfirst right into the drink. That's right - potty 1, shuffle, 0.

Seeing as how no actual potty activity had taken place, I fished it out and let it dry over the duration of the day, fearing the worst. However, amazingly enough, it works this afternoon. It's a miracle!

This did prompt a series of discussions of just what is your toilet price. What would you abandon in a toilet under what circumstances? I'll say this. Anywhere but my house, I might have let it go. Apparently my toilet price outside of my own home is my beloved iPod shuffle.

They're full of hot air

Yesterday I went with some friends to the Plano hot air balloon festival. This consisted essentially of a ridiculous number of booths offering such delicacies as corn dogs, funnel cakes, and nachos, a climbing wall and other athletic endeavors, and tons and tons of hot air balloons. It was a really good time. After touring all the booths and enjoying a corn dog (with mustard!), we found a good spot to sip strawberry lemonade and watching the action. It was awesome! We stuck around until it got dark and a whole new set of balloons participated in the glow, which basically means they all light their fires at the same time and look like a field full of giant lightening bugs. Neat-o.

A new toy

Happy birthday! This is the present my fabulous husband got me:
Okay, that one isn't mine. That's a picture of one that someone took with a really nice camera and some knowledge of how to take pictures of glowing screens that I found on Wiki. This one is mine, and I love it love it love it. Need to map yourself? Use the built in GPS and map finding tools! Need to check your email for some crazy reason - no problem! Listen to music? It's also an iPod! Want to buy something on Woot? Go for it! Oh yeah, you can actually use it as a phone too. Amazing!

The best feature? There's an application you can download (for free!) that lets you use it as a flashlight. This is the Swiss Army Phone.

We don't like Ike

This past weekend my stepsister got married! This is fabulous. Normally I would have all kinds of things to say about the ceremony, the flowers, the dresses, the cake. (Especially the cake.) But in addition to all that, there is something else to talk about. Something large and menacing and altogether disruptive. That's right. I'm talking about Ike.

This is Ike. He's a category 2 storm, which doesn't seem particularly bad, but he comes with a ridiculously large storm surge of 14 feet (much better than the projected 30 feet). Worst of all, he came ashore in the town I grew up in, where both of my parents still live with their spouses. In addition to that, it then followed highway 288 up to where my brother and his wife live, then decided to take interstate 45 to Conroe, where my stepsister's wedding was scheduled to be occurring. After all that, he decided to continue on to hit my grandparent's house and then straight to Rockwall as a tropical storm to dump rain on our house.
All in all, this storm really had it out for my family.
We managed to pull of the wedding. It was a beautiful ceremony that we managed to get all fixed up in eight hours, after deciding to push things forward a day to avoid being crushed by falling tree branches in the outdoor setting. We danced, we ate, we had general revelry. My stepsister looked fantastic and I could tell that she and her new husband were really happy. I'm glad we got to do it - even if we had to hurry it up a bit.

As soon as the ceremony was over, we all headed for a night of sleep before a morning of evacuating to my grandparents, where we hunkered down for the rest of the weekend. We rode out the remaining parts of the storm there. For those who are worried, everyone is okay. Nobody lost anything that can't be replaced. My dad lost a tree. My mom lost a fence. My brother, well, he lost a gate latch. Everyone made it out okay. Now if we could just get power and water restored to the Houston area, everything could start going back to normal for them.

The weirdest part of all this? E and I go back to work tomorrow like nothing even happened. The Big-D is a-ok from this mess. So while my family down in H-town goes through cleanup, we've got to head back to work.

I might take the cleanup.

Homebound weekend

This weekend marks the first in over eight weeks where E and I haven't either had to go somewhere, had people visiting, or were otherwise occupied with extensive things to do. In other words, this weekend consisted or absolutely no plans whatsoever. What do you do at a time like this? Household chores you've neglected for eight weeks, that's what.

E is in charge of mowing and trimming, so I tend to gardens and any plants that live in planters. Remember, I am a TERRIBLE gardener. I have a ficus given to me as a gift by a fantastic set of women (my mom and grandma), that I have successfully not killed for over six months now. However, it is on the brink of demise - almost always, since the day it arrived in our home. On a suggestion from both my mom and mother-in-law, I trimmed all branches that seemed dead and kept only the live limbs. This amused my husband so much that he took multiple photos of my poor plant. (He's named Ben - because the scientific name is ficus benjamina and we are nerdy, nerdy people.).And here's a picture of my dog, simply because I can't go an entire weekend at home without taking a photo of her. Notice how she's sitting in her doghouse... Also a gift from my grandma. She really likes it in there - especially when mowing or trimming is happening.
E was nice enough to stand by one of my alphias so I could take a picture of how tall it seems to be. It's growing fantastically and looks amazing. I'm very grateful for plants that require almost no attention from me. This one just seems to grow and grow. Next year, I expect flowers. (That dirt spot? That's from the sprinkler installation earlier this summer. Don't worry, it will grow back - or so I tell myself.)

We saw the in-laws for dinner, cleaned and manicured the house, and even managed to watch a movie on HBO (free until the end of the year!). Sunday after church we had fullfilled almost everything we had not planned for the weekend. So what to do next? Head to the driving range for some awful golf practice (in efforts to not be so terrible). We each hit a large bag and according to E, about 10% of our shots went exactly where we wanted. That's an improvement! And check out the awesome golf shoes I got on super sale at the Nike outlet for 85% off! Who can resist that? Not a budding golf junkie like me! Now all we have to do is watch the Cowboys beat the Browns and eat take-out Chinese. It's been a great weekend.

Labor day without laboring

She is a certain first full week at work at a company in the wide wonderful world that is Denver, Colorado. Aurora, to be exact. Both of us are terrified and feel ridiculous, lost even. Her from Kansas, me from Texas, by way of grad school in Fort Collins. There's something about being thrown into an office together that can really cause two people to bond. What started out as a few questions at work turned into evenings full of sushi. Days full of shopping at any given mall in Colorado. Weekend trips with nothing in front of us but two whole days of mountains. I do miss her terribly, and when she and her husband decided to visit us here in Texas, we were more than happy to oblige.

What's a visit to the H household without a round of (absolutely terrible) golf? Okay, so E and I are terrible. D is even still a beginner. Her husband, hereafter referred to as R, played golf in college. So while we were out there hacking away at things, he managed to shoot par or below par on every whole. E managed to hit par once, D had a couple of amazing drives, and I even managed to get a bogey once! Trust me, when you golf like I do, a bogey is awesome. Regardless, we had a great time. So great, in fact, that the guys went out for another round the two days later while D and I hit up the stores. In between we managed to throw in some downtown Dallas touring, lots of dominoes and euchre, and even went to a Rangers game! I just wish we could see our whole dinner club again... Can't wait until we see everyone again during our February visit to Denver. That's right, I said February and Denver and visit all at once. What can I say, Texas heat will make you long for those cold winters and down comforters.


There's that one person you can always count on to do anything for you.

Corn chip feet

There are some things most dedicated dog owners know, but will be reluctant to tell for fear of sounding absolutely bonkers. Corn chip feet is one of those things. That's right, feet. I challenge you to find a dog owner who doesn't know that dog feet smell like corn chips. It's happened to the best of us, without our knowledge or consent. You're sitting there, scratching a happy dog between the ears and you catch a whiff of something all too familiar. Is someone having Frito pie? Is there bean dip you're missing out on? Someone, somewhere very near you, has opened a bag of corn chips.

It takes a few minutes to realize that no one is in fact eating anything. You start looking around, sniffing for some errant chip that escaped during your last shin-dig. Nope. Nothing. Your dog looks at you and sniffs around as well - they are, after all, happy to help. Your sniffing leads your right to... The feet. Corn chip feet.

I firmly believe that any dog owner that won't own up to this knowledge either has an outside-only dog, is lying, or has completely lost their sense of smell.

I know you're tempted to try it.

Lake Ray Hubbard, I have a crush on you

On this, the first Satuday without a regimented plan in nearly a month, E and I headed out to the lake with Zoee. The lake is blissful. Boating is heavenly. Floating around processing sun into vitamin D is good for my bones. Anyway, we were super excited.

Zoee is a Labrador, which means she LOVES the water. But it's hard to pull a wet, swimming dog into the boat without any leverage. Today we tried a new tactic. We put her in a life preserver. This not only improved our ability to pull her back in, but it also gave her endurance she's never known before.

Needless to say, after two hours of nonstop swimming, we were finished. After a long nap and some drying out, and this afternoon, she's ready to go again.

That ain't a fire ant

This past weekend I ventured down to Houston for some good-natured party-time at my sister's bachelorette shin-dig. I was planning on recounting all of the fun we had celebrating in Houston this weekend, which included a shower, some ridiculous hat, shopping, massages, dinner, and drinks. But when I got home my husband had a different story, I believe you'll be glad I shared.

While I was away for the weekend, E went up to see his parents. Usually when I am there, visiting the padres involves his mom and me hanging out in the house while E and his dad tromp around in the mud, dirt, and brambles with the dog. Apparently the only difference when I can't come is that no one is there to hang out with his mom. The boys? In the dirt. E, his dad, plus one more... This guy:This, my friends, is a striped bark scorpion (Centruoides vittatus). It is one of the many varieties of things in Texas that try to sting, bite, or otherwise poison you. E met it in a most unfortunate way. As told by him:

"Well, I was down in the fish pond filter hole and we were finishing up putting the filter in place. As I was getting out and walking back to the house, I realized I had a fire ant in my pants. I swatted it and this only successfully upset the monster. He stung me again, this time, much higher up the leg. Plus, the burning... A lot more intense. At this point I ripped my boots off because my jeans wouldn't go over them, then proceeded to unceremoniously shuck down to socks, shorts, and a t-shirt. After turning my jeans inside out I found the little guy. While he was mad, I was madder, and he quickly met his end."

When he finally decided he was free of all potential poison-ers and had reapplied his pants, he went inside. He told his mom about this whole incident and she had apparently missed the entire show. E dancing in his underpants on the back patio? Yeah, she didn't see that whole thing. Fortunately, his dad did. Someone has to be able to tell this story at future family gatherings.

From where I sit, it sounds pretty hilarious. (Now that I know he's fine, of course.)

I think it's mocking me

Before our black thumbs got a hold of it...We moved into our house in March of this year. When we moved in, the yard was beautifully manicured. Beautiful azaleas out front in the garden, lovely purple cabbage decorating the walk, Burr Oak trees listing lazily in the wind, and a ocean of green green Bermuda to sink our toes into. It was a sight to behold. In fact, check it out. It's beautiful.

This lovely piece of land, unlike the other homes on our block, did not come equipped with an in-ground sprinkler system. No problem, I think. I didn't grow up in a house with a sprinkler system. Neither did he. Installing one costs HOW much? We'll just water our lawn ourselves, thank you very much.

It's now August, and we've had more 100-plus degree days than I care to recount. With the two of us holding down full time jobs and our worthless dog refusing to do any kind of yardwork, the lovely landscaping fell into something of a state of disrepair. Not that we weren't trying. Every evening we'd come home and water all areas of the yard thoroughly and drench the flowerbeds. We filled up watering bags to keep the trees sated day and night. We were really, honestly, trying to keep things lovely.

Despite our best efforts, we soon realized that not only were we fighting a losing battle, but that it was being highlighted brilliantly by the fact that our neighbors were not involved in any such war with their yards. Their yards? Lush and green. Like jade masterpieces in the summer sun. Our yard? Some stage between Texas desert and the Serengeti.

In the end, we ended up giving up. We had sprinklers installed to help salvage what little dignity we had left with the neighbors. Not only is the grass some sickly shade of yellow, but it now has two inch wide dirt trenches running throughout where the sprinklers were put down. There is a ray of hope though. We now have green patches. It's only a matter of time before it's back to the flowering masterpiece it once was.

And my Knockout Rose is STILL a knockout.

The tie that binds

Okay, so this picture is some two or three years ago, but in it you'll find three generations. Mom, me, and my grandma... Since I can remember, the three of us have been something of a team. This is illustrated no more brilliantly than on the day many call "Black Friday". We were like some kind of unstoppable force on Black Friday. Christmas presents purchased for everyone and anyone - if it was something someone - ANYONE - needed, we were on top of it. We were something of shopping dynamos.

Then came the day when E and I moved to Colorado, which is a state far far from Texas, when put in terms of a weekend drive for a shopping trip. The Black Friday madness was put on hiatus - indefinitely. With me living some 1200 miles away, shopping all day long was a far-fetched impossibility. It was a sad day for the dynamic trio. Black Friday indeed - the words held something of a sinister meaning all of the sudden for us. It was the day we USED TO have a bonding moment that none of the men in the family could understand.

Flash forward five years, and we find me all moved back to Texas. Driving - no problem. Shopping, on again! In an effort to make up for lost time, my mom and grandmother drove up to Rockwall to spend the weekend shopping in the Big D. Black Friday be or not, we were going to go shopping whenever we felt like it - holiday or not. We hit up every mall that we could think of. We spent two hours in Ikea alone! It was a shopping extravaganza. We had really returned to our original shopping glory. We were full of fun - talking and catching up. It was just like old times. The only thing is, Black Friday is on a Friday. Typically we have an entire weekend to recover from elbowing little old ladies out of the best bargains. I'm exhausted. Next time we'll have to go on a Friday - just so I have plenty of time to recover.

My mom and grandmother? Ready for another round. I'm the wuss in this family battle.

My dog, part bovine

Our dog loves our backyard. Especially now, the new and improved lawn - with sprinklers! You might think that she loves to frolic, to fetch, to sniff... Well sure. Those are all fine and good. But why do all that when you can EAT? The backyard is our dog's salad. Bermuda grass? Might as well be arugula. Canna lillies? You must mean cucumbers. Alfia, no, you are actually spinach.

I've got to get the dog off the greenery before I'm out of yard altogether. We might as well have a goat.

A visceral reaction

It's like taking a step back into time - Walking into the 6th Floor Museum in what used to be the Texas Book Depository in downtown Dallas. You learn about this moment in history, but you never really know what it must have been like, at least not if you weren't there. A moment forever remembered in history through a pink suit, a motorcade, a president. The museum leads you through the life and times of President Kennedy, up through the terrible day in 1963 that all centered around this very spot, the place where you are standing now. It makes you draw in a deep breath. You watch footage, you remember his dreams, you wonder what might have been. Most of all, you want to do more. You want to be do better. You want to be better.

The museum is worth visiting. There were moments that took my breath and pulled at my emotions. I left feeling moved and stirred and better somehow. It was well worth the trip.

Everything's bigger in Texas

This weekend we had a friend visit us from Colorado. In Denver, this is the guy we could always count on for anything. A good conversation, a drink after work, someone to play with your dog... This guy is pretty much all around one of our favorite people in the world. So we were SUPER excited to have him visit.

We did all kinds of fabulous Dallas-y things while he was here. First and foremost (and perhaps most importantly) we spent hours on Friday afternoon floating around the lake catching up. You'd be amazed how easy it is to catch up on a lake, especially when it's 104 degrees outside and all you want to do is stay as submerged as possible. It was great. We found a quiet cove and just swam the afternoon away. After all this we went to dinner, but it's amazing what a day of work, swimming, and sun will do to you, especially when you throw in a few drinks. We were exhausted.

There are some things about Dallas that are unique to the city. The 6th floor museum near Dealay Plaza, the West End, the Texas Rangers, the Arboretum... Plus all the Mexican food you can handle. And Blue Bell ice cream. Songs about Texas playing over loudspeakers everywhere... We did it all. And had a fantastic time doing it.

It was great to catch up. We can't wait until the next time we get together again. I just hope next time E does all the driving.

Yes, I do mean 105

Tomorrow we have a friend visiting from Denver. We are SUPER excited about this. He's never really experienced the glory of Texas, and we're going to do our best to show it to him. We're going to eat BBQ. We're going to watch the Rangers. We're going to go boating. However, beyond that, we're going to have to stay inside. He's coming from something I know well... Mild, temperate summers that invite you to put out a hammock and waste away a Sunday afternoon reading a good book. I'm not sure he knows what he's getting into.

We're totally going to use my lime in Mexican beer though. It's time. My lime tree has produced a glorious lime, which will totally be used.

Overheard at the cube farm

"What, you mean they're living together?"
--
"Yeah, I know how that goes."
--
"I guess you've got to test drive the material before you buy."
--
"What if there's something kinky and wrong with it?"
--
"Man, that's what the test drive is for!"
--
"Well, did he know before they moved in?"
--
"Seems like he wouldn't be into something kinky like that..."
--------------------------------------
Me = somehow captivated/mortified by this whole conversation my cube-wall-mate is having on the phone. Does he realize that everyone else can hear him talking? Does he know and NOT CARE? Regardless, I never found out what the kinky weird thing was, so to speak, but I got a really REALLY good idea.

I'm a little uncomfortable. Time for a shower.

Two and a half years

My wonderful husband and I have been married for two and a half years as of tomorrow. Why, you might wonder, would two people celebrate a half-year anniversary? Well, I will tell you.

The first reason? We like each other. Really. We do. Talking to each other is a serious highlight in both of our days, so if we can isolate some time to enjoy it, we do.

The second reason? This dress that I'm wearing. That's right. We orchestrated a situation in which I could wear this dress, because I've owned it for almost a year and have yet to find the appropriate season/event to which it can be worn. For this, my husband decided that our two point five was the perfect occasion to bust it out.

To celebrate our half-year anniversary and to wear the dress, we went to a certain Dallas dining establishment known for their triumvirate of forks. At this particular restaurant, they are well known for their steaks and if you are me, their truffle speckled creamed corn. It is one of those places where you have a waiter dedicated to only your table, you never ever run out of ice water, and they are very careful to scrape all the crumbs off the table between courses with that little bread scraper thingie. This is a restaurant where the valet always parks the cars that cost approximately half as much as your house in front and your bug splattered vehicle gets shunted to the back with the rest of the common folk.

We enjoyed delicious scallops wrapped in bacon, the most incredible steak of all time (I get the filet, he has the NY strip), followed by bread pudding and creme brulee. We had a fabulous bottle of wine and some terrific coffee. I'm not one to leave a good dessert down, but I will admit that I gave up on the bread pudding. After all of the creamed corn I just didn't have room. We drove ourselves home and jumped out of our fancy duds into pjs on the couch, to drift into a fantastic food-induced coma. I will admit that our III Forks waiter seemed a bit abashed when we gave our reason for visiting (the anniversary, not the dress). Regardless of our waiter's feelings on what is suitable for celebration, we had a fabulous time.

What's that smell?

We have a Labrador Retriever. These dogs are known for their oily furry coats that help protect them from the icy, freezing waters off the coast of Newfoundland. In Texas in July we don't have any icy, freezing water. We have, instead, blistering heat. Dogs like ours aren't designed for this type of weather. They develop distinctive methods of overcoming the heat. Some pant. Some chill out in pools. Ours... Smells.

I'm pretty sure the smell is a byproduct of our dog trying to overcome the heat, and not actually the method she's using to overcome it, but regardless... The musty, dank odor following us around lately isn't something rotting in the wall - it's the DOG.

To overcome this we bathe her. Or, E bathes her. We would both do it, but there's not really room for all three of us in the shower. That's right - the SHOWER. To bathe our dog we don't head out to the backyard like your normal dog owners. We take to the showers. Years of apartment and townhome life have made us grow accustomed to bathing our 82 pound dog indoors, and well, old habits die hard.

Bathing the dog in the shower is, er, interesting. It requires quite a great deal of finesse and a certain willingness to be soaked. Somehow the act of cleaning the dog results in a great deal of getting dirty. Not only do you have to bathe after the whole ordeal, but you have to clean the shower as well.

Needless to say, tonight was the last bath until we can't stand the smell again. About a week from now.

A confession...

Internet, I have a confession. I like Bridezillas. Nay, I love it. There is something about the screaming, the hysteria, the manic-depressive behavior that I relish in. I like watching these women go bonkers over the slightest problems with whatever shade of pink their flowers are supposed to be for the mothers. There is something oddly and disturbingly soothing about knowing that my wedding did not have any of this ridiculousness, nor did any of the weddings in which I have been a participant. I sit, awestruck, like some kind of moth drawn to a flame. I watch, all the while thinking to myself, "I cannot BE-live these people AC-tua-LLY exist."

My husband, however, is a different kind of guy. He does not sit like some horrible rubbernecker in traffic. This does anything but captivate him. These women are abhorrent to him, and he cannot change the channel fast enough.

So this weekend, I think, is my chance to catch up on all the Bridezilla goodness I've missed. He's not here. I have full remote power. The TV is all mine. So I am watching Bridezillas for approximately and hour and a half before I start to feel kind of dirty. No. Kind of terrible. Like someone who relishes in other people's pain. The schadenfreude that originally characterized the show for me has dissolved into something akin to pity and despair. My love for it is lost.

I still have Project Runway.

Imagine waking up to this face

This weekend Zoee and I are on our own. With E off on a trip with his padre, she and I had the run of the house. So instead of falling asleep in my comfy bed where I like to sleep, I nodded off watching a movie on the couch. Rather than moving, I ended up spending the night there. My dog loves the couch because when I lay on it she and I are eye level. She woke me up with a swift poke of the nose at about 6:30 am. After that, she spent the remainder of the morning continually blocking my view of such guilty pleasures as "Saved by the Bell".

Probably for the best. Upon her insistence, I got myself off the couch and was productive. I went to the garden center, purchased a bunch of flowers and potting soil, and set to fixing up our garden. Yes, I know it's late the season for this. Yes, I know that flowers have a hard time taking hold when it's 100 degrees outside. However, I also know that I absolutely despised walking into our house and looking at the dead azalea bush and horrible horrible cabbage plants. So I pulled these up and replaced them with beautiful hibiscus plants and a new knockout rosebush. (The other one is doing so well!) I already feel better.

Coconuts are harder than you might imagine

I have a confession. My husband and I are wanna-be foodies. Not full-scale foodies, but we would like to be. We take cooking classes - Even in Italy. (See the pictures, we're making three varieties of homemade pasta in Tuscany last year.) We have dates - In our kitchen. We love food. We love wine. We know very little about either. We can stand there and nod while someone talks about the finer points of cinnamon versus cassia, but truthfully we've just learned the difference in bread flour, cake flour, and all-purpose. (Turns out, it's really important for different things - who knew? Other foodies, I guess.)

Don't get me wrong, we know a thing or two. All those classes and cooking adventures were bound to teach us something. We don't like to make braciola (takes too long), but chicken saltimboca can make you seem like a genius in the kitchen even though it's super easy. Shiraz is nearly as good at Pinot Noir in most situations and a whole heck of a lot cheaper, especially if it's from Australia. So I guess we know a thing or two.

This brings me to the point of all this. A few weeks ago, we decided to make a cake for my mother-in-law. We'll do it on Saturday night, we decide, as it's going to be a fun date-y activity. What does E have in mind? Coconut cake - from scratch. Where does he get this idea? Alton Brown, his cooking hero. For those who don't know, Alton is the scientist of the Food Network. Anything he makes is fully explained with diagrams and charts and a full understanding of why things are the way they are. For my husband, this is a dream come true. Why does he need to let dough stand for a long time? Oh, it has to do with the yeast! Why do olives taste bitter off the tree but delicious later? Oh, the curing process! He LOVES this. So when Alton taught him about coconuts, the first thing he wanted to do was make something with one - from scratch.

So we purchased coconuts from the store. We cracked them with hammers in the kitchen and preserved the juice for later use. We shredded the thing up in the food processor (also something E loves). In the end, it was more work than I've ever put into a cake in my entire life.

And more fun than I've ever had in the kitchen in my entire life. Thank goodness for foodies.

It really is a good life

The smoke filtering up through this tree is a result of 15 lbs of brisket smoking on a grill a few feet away from it. It's impossible to describe how incredible that much BBQ smells, but I'll let you imagine the mouthwatering aroma of meat so tender that it falls apart on the fork, corn slightly charred with smoke and covered with butter, and the reminder that when it's Independence day and my grandfather's Big Surprise 70th Birthday Party it is totally fine to have a large slice of pineapple upside down cake with homemade ice cream. (Trust me, I've barely scratched the surface of all the food that we were able to indulge in.)

The fourth of July in my family is always a party - where we gather at my grandparents for a weekend of dominoes, swimming dogs, and lots and lots of food and drink. This particular fourth was especially special, as my grandfather was turning 70 just a few days after. We planned, we conspired, we sneaked. And as a result instead of the typical 10 people at the party, we had nearly 26. It was incredible, and to top it off, I think he was really surprised. It was awesome.

Now, my grandparents have been married almost 50 years, and my grandma knows him pretty well. She managed to get some information on a gift he wanted and then go purchase it in town from the local dealer. When he opened it, he said, "Last time I was down there he said he already sold it!"

She said, "He had."

They're precious. And I can only hope that we have it so good someday. Every boat they've ever owned for as long as I can remember my grandpa has named after her. This one is no different.

Love you Ma and Pa. Thanks for the great weekend.

Do elephants swim?

This guy can tell you. And let me tell you, when we found "Wild Animal Crunch", the ONLY! cereal sponsored by the Animal Planet, we had to have it. How did we live so long before it existed?

No entrará!

Firewalls are supposed to keep other people out of the computer.

However, yesterday our computer updated itself and suddenly the internet was gone! Where did you go internet? What do you mean, page cannot be found? After finding this problem, two electrical engineers (that's me and the husband) tried in vain to connect for nearly an hour with no success. Yes that is correct. I did say an hour. We tried everything. Reboot the computer. Reset the router. Reset the modem. Disconnect the router entirely. Stupid internet.

The internet clearly told us that our firewall was no longer compatible with our OS. Except that we couldn't get there.

Talk about your catch-22.

Showers and flowers and toddlers, oh my!

This has been one thrilling weekend in The Wall. (I'm trying it out, calling Rockwall "The Wall" to see how it goes. Maybe it will catch on. Someone had to be the first one to call Dallas "The Big D".) Anyway, we had friends staying with us with their ball-of-fire toddler who was a little less than a lump of coal the first night due to a terrible ear infection. Fortunately he regained his strength (and energy) and managed to entertain us and our big dog with his antics for the majority of the weekend. It was great to see them again, and despite the minor illness setback, everyone seems well and happy. Baby number two, who is four weeks from being a healthy little girl, said hello to me through Morse code disguised as hiccups. I'm not sure her mom suspected a thing.

In addition to our house guests, our friends from across the world have moved back to the states! Yay for having the D family back home safely. They too are expecting a little one, so all of the ladies threw a shower for them (her) at another friend's home. For a few fleeting hours it felt just like old times again. However, we did realize when discussing car seats and potty training that we'd come a long way from finals and dorm life. It was fantastic to see everyone again. Can't wait to meet the kiddos.

Aside from that, I'm pooped. It was a big weekend. My couch is calling my name for a nap. I'll have pictures soon. To tide you over, be impressed with my horticultural prowess in growing this Knockout Rose. That's its name, though it is an apt description of its beauty as well. As this thing looked like a stick when I planted it, I couldn't be more pleased.