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?"
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"Yeah, I know how that goes."
--
"I guess you've got to test drive the material before you buy."
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"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?"
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"Seems like he wouldn't be into something kinky like that..."
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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.