Rainy Days

A couple rainy days to do nothing...it's been awhile. I've lived in my slippers and sweatshirt, pulled out my oil paints just for fun, baked an apple pie, sat in front of the fire, unpacked some books, read a magazine, cooked dinner, drank cups full of coffee with whipping cream, stared out at the water on the deck, put my face in my cat's furry belly, watched Grey's without thinking I should be doing something else, sat on the couch with my hubby's sleepy head in my lap, and didn't worry about any of the "shoulds" that so easily interrupt my life. Not thinking about next week...staying in the moment.

We have a new home!

I am about to spend my second night in our new home. Hopefully it will be much more restfull than the first now that Jester is more accustomed to his surroundings. Lets just say feline howling and scratching and the marking of territory are activities meant for the wild, not under our bed. What a week it's been. Painting, packing, cleaning, going to classes, meeting with my first clients, welcoming my mom and sis fresh off their dog sled from Canada, getting my first speeding ticket in 15 years (going 43 mph btw - woah)...and now sitting in my cozy new home wondering how the chaos will all get sorted out! I love my life!

The Good Wife Guide

My little brother just got married and I had the honor of taking their photos. This is one of my fave pics of his beautiful bride.

Speaking of marriage and weddings and brides...according to an excerpt from a 1960's Home Economics textbook that my professor handed out the other night, I am falling quite short in the "good wife" department of life. When welcoming my husband home from his day of toil, not only should the house be squeaky clean and his favorite meal be hot on the table, but I should be in my best form: "Touch up your make-up, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh looking. He has just been with a lot of work weary people. Be a little gay and a little more interesting for him...Remember his topics of conversation are more important than yours...Don't complain if he's late for dinner, or even stays out all night...Count this as minor compared to what he might have gone through that day... Don't ask him questions about his actions or question his judgment or integrity. Remember he is the master of the house...If you have any little hobbies yourself try not to bore him speaking of these, as women's interests are often rather trivial compared to men's". But wait! It just gets better as the evening progresses and preparations for bed begin: "Try to acheive a look that is welcoming without being obvious. If you need to apply face-cream or hair-rollers wait until he is asleep as this can be shocking to a man last thing at night" (poor, dear, traumatized man!). Then, "when it comes to the possibility of intimate relations with your husband it is important to rememeber your marriage vows and in in particular your commitment to obey him...In all things be led by your husband's wishes...Should your husband suggest congress then accede humbly all the while being mindful that a man's satisfaction is more important than a woman's..Should he suggest any of the more unusual practices be obedient and uncomplaining". Wow. Wow.

I guess I should have read this to the new bride at the reception...I wanna be sure my bro' will be treated "fairly"! 'Nough said.

Oh, Canada!

We're flying to Canada tomorrow for 10 days of Christmas, New Year's, and my little bro's wedding. It's 30 degrees below zero there... -48C if you figure in the wind chill. My folks are setting up a hot tub in our garage instead of in the back yard so our faces don't freeze off...oh, and my sis says she's eating moose roast tonight for dinner. Canada. Love it.

Pics...

Leaning Tower of Lisa

So I wrenched my back this week and sent it into a crippling spasm. This wasn't accomplished by attempting a particularly athletic move, engaging in wild sex, or even lifting something heavy. Nope. I merely stood up after taking a pee. I immediately recognized the seering pain across my lower hemisphere as the begining of an all-too-familiar-contortion. I fell to the ground clutching my ice pack, and began to pray that it wasn't so...then I cried...and finally, yes, I cussed. The first time this happened it took 3 weeks for me to heal. The second time was on the morning of our long awaited vacation to San Fran and Redding the summer of '07...it took about a week of chiro and massage treatments until I was at least walking without listing grotesquely to one side. Now I know what it's like to feel 112 years old and I am also aware of how much I take my mobility for granted. I am determined to turn a new leaf this year...no more sickness and no more back wrenching. I resolve to build up my immunity by consuming one bale of Echinacea per week along with my vitamins and a truckload of vegetables, and (gulp!) turn the development of my physical fitness over to my husband. I'm scared. He will make me into a "Crossfit Nasty Girl". I bet those chicks don't put out their backs when they go to the bathroom.

Meet Our New Ride...

Our new wheels: welcome the '89 Jeep Grand Wagoneer....so sweet. Only 800 bucks. I've always had a secret desire for one of these "endangered Rhino's of the road" as they're so aptly nicknamed. They're also nicknamed "Woodies" which I think is just spectacular. There will be an ongoing battle in our house over which one will stick...Brad rootin' for Rhino and me chirping back, "Woody!..it's Woody!" I had the priviledge of taking her on her maiden voyage, about a 10 mile spin from Shasta Lake to home. We attached the new plates, gave her some choke, and I slid behind the wheel, proud new owner. As I cautiously slipped her into gear the handle broke off in my hand...I also figured out a few blocks down the road that the brake was on...thank God, I was thinkin' something was wrong! From there on she cruised easily along...at 10 MPG. As I pulled into our apartment complex I saw my elderly neighbor Claire hangin' outside. "Do you like my new car?" I asked cheerily. "Why, yes", she replied. "It has a very nice rumble to it. Is it a diesel?" Um, no. I must admit I had to deal with some fossil-fuel-guilt-issues over buying this car. To overcome them I have determined that my new challenge is to drive as little as possible...at least until we can obtain a little "green" tin car that gets at least 34 MPG. And Brad will keep biking to work. And in reality, this is what we could afford. Everything else listed around $1000 had appealing descriptions like, "runs occasionally", or "only 279,000 miles", or "needs some minor work...especially a new transmission". And so we have our Rhino/Woody car...justified. And I am in guilt-free love.