As I sit down and bring out my Percy Jackson story to read while riding the bus to work, I notice the young gentleman beside me. He's about 13, also reading a book, and seems to be deep into it. I pay no notice other than that for a while as I delve in to monsters and greek mythology alongside Percy. Percy is on a quest and being a demigod, or halfblood, he is always attracting monsters. Oh how I love mythology, even when it's written for teenagers and perhaps even warped a little to enhance certain characters. It doesn't matter I love it.
Ok, so I'm reading along and I glance over to see what the boy beside me is enjoying this fine morning. I wonder if perhaps he's reading the same as me. We can share some Percy stories. Not even close.
Voltaire - Candide!?
I chuckle silently and shake my head at the lovely situation. I'm reading a teen novel; he's reading 17th century philosophy. Granted he's told to read it by the school no doubt, however, the irony of it is just incredible.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Old Friends
I'm starting to feel a bit nostalgic. T'is the season I guess. My mind drifts across the sea and I think of people I'm far away from.
The other day I was browsing my bookshelves (my real ones, not my online ones!). My bookshelves are in the den, which is also Emma's playroom that is currently also the kitten's room, which is also a storage room for abandoned things. If I don't know where something is, chances are it's on a shelf or in a box in the den. I was in there looking for a book I had borrowed from a friend almost a year ago. She'd finally asked for it back and I was distraught as I had no idea where it might be. I started browsing the shelves and finally found it. Next to it was a very old notebook. It was covered with cut out magazine images and then with clear plastic, you know that plastic that you put on your school books to protect them because a decade of kids were going to read the same book.
The notebook didn't at first really trigger the memory for what it was. I thought first that it might have been an actual notebook, where I had jotted down my ideas and thoughts. The images from various magazines, were carefully cut out and positioned on the cover. They ranged from a bust of Shakespeare, a map of England, a sparrow and a martini glass. It struck me how all of these images meant something to me, as much now as they did back then when this was created. I know I made it in Sweden, in my last year of high school. As I opened the notebook to page one I realized that it was an address book. I had carefully decorated a regular lined notebook, painted every 5 or so pages with a scroll letter and the pages were full of people's addreses and phone numbers.
I sat down on the sofa with my forgotten address book and poured over the pages. Memories just flooding in from all over as I read from person to person, knowing what their houses looked like, or what they looked like 16 years ago.
But what I found most disturbing or sad was how many of these names didn't mean anything to me. At some point, these people had been important to me. I had put them in my book for a reason, so I could communicate with them by letters or postcards. At some point, I must have sent them something. The addresses kept changing at times, with a crossed out line going over them and a new address appearing. Perhaps their new address when school ended, or their summer dwelling.
Some addresses were to people in Italy, in New Zealand. For the life of me I cannot remember having ever known anyone from Italy.
It saddens me that people I knew are no longer part of my memory. But it makes me happy to know that I knew so many people that I wanted to communicate with and that gladly gave me their forwarding address. Chances are I sent them mine as well. Part of me wanted to send each person on that list a postcard, saying "hi, how are you? remember me?", but I'm almost certain that all of them, or at least the majority would be returned to sender.
Life is so amazing. We meet so many incredible people. Some stay for such a short time and others are there forever. Some stay for a longer time, yet a decade later we have to force our minds to remember them because time has gotten away from us and we've been out of touch for so long.
And some, and this is my favourite kind of friend, are not always with you, years can go by without a word, without even the knowledge if you're alive and well, but then they show up, by chance or planned, and it is as if they never left.
So here's to Dana, Jessica, Linda, Lisa, Stephanie, Gertrud, Emma, Karin, Linda, Cindy Sue and all those whom I know and I love and that I would be able to knock on their door in 20 years and it would be as if I just left.
For those I cannot remember a face of, remind me if you see me on the street or at the store one day, that hey, we used hang out and laugh and laugh together. Let's do it again!
The other day I was browsing my bookshelves (my real ones, not my online ones!). My bookshelves are in the den, which is also Emma's playroom that is currently also the kitten's room, which is also a storage room for abandoned things. If I don't know where something is, chances are it's on a shelf or in a box in the den. I was in there looking for a book I had borrowed from a friend almost a year ago. She'd finally asked for it back and I was distraught as I had no idea where it might be. I started browsing the shelves and finally found it. Next to it was a very old notebook. It was covered with cut out magazine images and then with clear plastic, you know that plastic that you put on your school books to protect them because a decade of kids were going to read the same book.
The notebook didn't at first really trigger the memory for what it was. I thought first that it might have been an actual notebook, where I had jotted down my ideas and thoughts. The images from various magazines, were carefully cut out and positioned on the cover. They ranged from a bust of Shakespeare, a map of England, a sparrow and a martini glass. It struck me how all of these images meant something to me, as much now as they did back then when this was created. I know I made it in Sweden, in my last year of high school. As I opened the notebook to page one I realized that it was an address book. I had carefully decorated a regular lined notebook, painted every 5 or so pages with a scroll letter and the pages were full of people's addreses and phone numbers.
I sat down on the sofa with my forgotten address book and poured over the pages. Memories just flooding in from all over as I read from person to person, knowing what their houses looked like, or what they looked like 16 years ago.
But what I found most disturbing or sad was how many of these names didn't mean anything to me. At some point, these people had been important to me. I had put them in my book for a reason, so I could communicate with them by letters or postcards. At some point, I must have sent them something. The addresses kept changing at times, with a crossed out line going over them and a new address appearing. Perhaps their new address when school ended, or their summer dwelling.
Some addresses were to people in Italy, in New Zealand. For the life of me I cannot remember having ever known anyone from Italy.
It saddens me that people I knew are no longer part of my memory. But it makes me happy to know that I knew so many people that I wanted to communicate with and that gladly gave me their forwarding address. Chances are I sent them mine as well. Part of me wanted to send each person on that list a postcard, saying "hi, how are you? remember me?", but I'm almost certain that all of them, or at least the majority would be returned to sender.
Life is so amazing. We meet so many incredible people. Some stay for such a short time and others are there forever. Some stay for a longer time, yet a decade later we have to force our minds to remember them because time has gotten away from us and we've been out of touch for so long.
And some, and this is my favourite kind of friend, are not always with you, years can go by without a word, without even the knowledge if you're alive and well, but then they show up, by chance or planned, and it is as if they never left.
So here's to Dana, Jessica, Linda, Lisa, Stephanie, Gertrud, Emma, Karin, Linda, Cindy Sue and all those whom I know and I love and that I would be able to knock on their door in 20 years and it would be as if I just left.
For those I cannot remember a face of, remind me if you see me on the street or at the store one day, that hey, we used hang out and laugh and laugh together. Let's do it again!
NaNoWriMo
NaNoWriMo - if you haven't heard about it yet, it stands for National Novel Writing Month.
I had this crazy idea, spurred on by one of my oldest friends, to sign up and write a novel or a novel piece of 50K words in the month of November.
What exactly was I thinkin???
Well, I think my goal was to start something, perhaps not finish something but I'm three days in to November and I have Zero words on paper (screen). I don't even have an interest in writing a novel. All I seem to want to do at 9pm when Emma is finally sleeping, the dishes are done, the laundry is folded or at least switched, is to sit down and browse Etsy.com or pick up my Percy Jackson adventure (I know, I'm obsessed with Greek mythology through the eyes of a thirteen year old boy...blimey!). Not write. I try to seem excited about it, to work up a "yeehaa" attitude but it's not working. I shouldn't blame Emma really. She's a pretty incredible inspiration and I love writing down what she's up to on her own blog, but this is different. Blogging is easy. It's journal writing. It's pouring your thoughts or interests or whatever out on a small page. It's not 50K worth of words! For those of us who are not mathematical geniuses, that's 1667 words per day! If that doesn't scare you then perhaps 11,667 words per week will. I'm not saying I'm giving up, heck it's only day 3, but I am saying that it might not happen. And I think I'm eerily calm about it. A while back, I would have considered it a failure to start something that big and not see it through. In high school I never handed in an assignment late, it was usually handed in before it was due.
So, my little venting session is over...NaNoWriMo...well, I'm not convinced it's for me.
I had this crazy idea, spurred on by one of my oldest friends, to sign up and write a novel or a novel piece of 50K words in the month of November.
What exactly was I thinkin???
Well, I think my goal was to start something, perhaps not finish something but I'm three days in to November and I have Zero words on paper (screen). I don't even have an interest in writing a novel. All I seem to want to do at 9pm when Emma is finally sleeping, the dishes are done, the laundry is folded or at least switched, is to sit down and browse Etsy.com or pick up my Percy Jackson adventure (I know, I'm obsessed with Greek mythology through the eyes of a thirteen year old boy...blimey!). Not write. I try to seem excited about it, to work up a "yeehaa" attitude but it's not working. I shouldn't blame Emma really. She's a pretty incredible inspiration and I love writing down what she's up to on her own blog, but this is different. Blogging is easy. It's journal writing. It's pouring your thoughts or interests or whatever out on a small page. It's not 50K worth of words! For those of us who are not mathematical geniuses, that's 1667 words per day! If that doesn't scare you then perhaps 11,667 words per week will. I'm not saying I'm giving up, heck it's only day 3, but I am saying that it might not happen. And I think I'm eerily calm about it. A while back, I would have considered it a failure to start something that big and not see it through. In high school I never handed in an assignment late, it was usually handed in before it was due.
So, my little venting session is over...NaNoWriMo...well, I'm not convinced it's for me.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Staying Strong and Independent
I believe there's something to be said about using other people's experiences and knowledge as a guide when going through life. It's comforting to know that others have gone before you on the path you're now walking. Others whohave lived through what you're living through, seen things you are just starting to see, and can guide you along the path of life. Mentors are everywhere and it's important to listen when presented with advice.
It starts to become an issue however, if you allow yourself to only be guided by others and forget to listen, feel and follow your own heart. You have significant input in your own life but this is tough to remember when you're stressed about everything around you. If you only listen to others, you can drown in a sea of advice and forget where you were headed.
Not everyones' experiences are the same. Even if at the core the destination is the same, we all walk different paths to get there and along the way we make decisions that affects us in various ways, not always the same.
Take for example becoming pregnant. The fact that we will (hopefully) end up with a baby in nine months, is the same. If I had listened to all those mothers gone before me about what it was like being pregnant and giving birth, I doubt I would have had my beautiful Emma. I would have taken all the advice, grouped it together and seen that the majority didn't like being pregnant, hated giving birth and summed it up to the worst experience of their life. Even after they held their babies, they continued to complain about nursing, changing diapers, the lack of sleep and so on and so forth.
If I listen to the experiences of others in all my life dealings and decisions, I would be frightened to step out of my house every day. Yet we put a lot of stock in other people's advice. All this to say that if a path you're on feels good, it makes sense and your in a place where you've weighed the options, you've examined the multitude of scenarios and you're surrounded by good people that support you, then you are set, in your own way to go forth along the path you've started out on. Believing that others are better equipped to deal with your life is wrong and it gets you nowhere but idling and in limbo.
Believe that you will find your path and you are on your way to greater places.
Simon, I love you, now and always, you are in my world forever and for that I am ultimately thankful. My heart is full of you and I will never ever let go of that feeling and will always be here when you need me.
It starts to become an issue however, if you allow yourself to only be guided by others and forget to listen, feel and follow your own heart. You have significant input in your own life but this is tough to remember when you're stressed about everything around you. If you only listen to others, you can drown in a sea of advice and forget where you were headed.
Not everyones' experiences are the same. Even if at the core the destination is the same, we all walk different paths to get there and along the way we make decisions that affects us in various ways, not always the same.
Take for example becoming pregnant. The fact that we will (hopefully) end up with a baby in nine months, is the same. If I had listened to all those mothers gone before me about what it was like being pregnant and giving birth, I doubt I would have had my beautiful Emma. I would have taken all the advice, grouped it together and seen that the majority didn't like being pregnant, hated giving birth and summed it up to the worst experience of their life. Even after they held their babies, they continued to complain about nursing, changing diapers, the lack of sleep and so on and so forth.
I asked a woman today if going through a separation with her two young daughters was difficult. I knew the answer, but I felt I needed to hear it. She was not holding anything back. She was honest about her experience and I was thankful for it. What struck me as odd was how she felt the need to push her experience on to my life and compare the two as being the same. She doesn't know my life, nor my relationships or my family. To her, if I was to go through the same one day, it would end up as bad as hers. Maybe it was her own experiences shining through and the judgments she made along the way that made her bitter about it, or perhaps it was the saddness of "failing" at something and me bringing it up that made her almost convince me that life ended with a separation and your children are victims in a situation they cannot control. I know this much, I have the best father to my child and the best partner in anything that we will go through.
If I listen to the experiences of others in all my life dealings and decisions, I would be frightened to step out of my house every day. Yet we put a lot of stock in other people's advice. All this to say that if a path you're on feels good, it makes sense and your in a place where you've weighed the options, you've examined the multitude of scenarios and you're surrounded by good people that support you, then you are set, in your own way to go forth along the path you've started out on. Believing that others are better equipped to deal with your life is wrong and it gets you nowhere but idling and in limbo.
Believe that you will find your path and you are on your way to greater places.
Simon, I love you, now and always, you are in my world forever and for that I am ultimately thankful. My heart is full of you and I will never ever let go of that feeling and will always be here when you need me.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Gross Encounters
Warning! Disturbing and disgusting post. Not to be read by weak minds or stomachs.
It actually pains me to follow my previous post with this one, but I was so grossed out tonight that I just had to get it out of head.
While Emma was working on falling asleep upstairs, I was working on trimming my body on the Wii Fit. Lovely thing the Wii.
This is of course irrelevant to what happened next, but just to set the scene of how great the mood was all around.
I finished my exercise and as I was choosing my next one, I heard this "squishing" sound coming from the front entrance. First my brain wasn't registering the sound as an odd sound. Only after more "squishing" did I stop what I was doing and went to investigate.
On the third step from the bottom was Grace feasting on a mouse she'd caught. Now Grace is an excellent mouse hunter with 100% accuracy when catching mice. I'm no whimp when it comes to mice in a house. I grew up with mousetraps and cats leaving "presents" on the front steps. They don't bother me at all. Hearing them run around in the walls of this old house is actually rather comforting. It's a sound from childhood.
However, this was not comforting. This was the most disgusting thing I've ever seen. Grace has never caught a mouse and eaten it before! She's brought them to me while I'm sleeping or played with them until they die and then leaves them because she doesn't know what she's suppose to do with it.
There were blood splatters on the stairs, blood spots on the tiles...and half of the mouse was already gone. The head part! Oh lord. I'm so grossed out.
That's not really the worst part. When I tried to get her to drop it, she ran away. Up the stairs, in to my bedroom and under the dresser. Simon ran after her and I finally got her to drop it.
Then I spent about half a bottle of cleaner sterilizing the stairs and every other place Grace had been with the half eaten mouse. Poor little thing. But he clearly should not have entered this house. There's not two cats here, what was he thinking! I swear Grace was showing off to Cedar. Look at me, I am so cool, I can eat a whole mouse! Wow Auntie Grace, you are so crazy! I wanna be just like you when I grow up.
GROSS. Just sayin.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Weddings and Tears
It's like Funerals and Tears isn't? It's bound to happen. It's something that is unavoidable and no matter what we say, do or imagine that we won't, we will cry. At some point. Whether it is while the adorable flower girl walks down the aisle with her basket of petals; the beautiful bride looking so elegant beside her father; the groom watching his beautiful bride; or during the speeches when it's either heartwarming or funny enough to shed a tear. We do it. We all do it.
This past September it was my sister's time to walk down the aisle. I was a bit distracted by life to be totally involved in her wedding details, on the other hand, she is a bit of a control freak
but an extremely organized one. She didn't mind. I think.
Back to the wedding.
It was a beautiful and amazing wedding. Everyone had a great time. During the ceremony I managed to keep my eyes dry even while my little girl walked down the aisle in her beautiful flower girl dress making sure the petals were properly placed along the way; marking the path for Karin to find her husband-to-be. They were also dry when my dad sat in the front row crying over his beautiful bride of a daughter looking so gorgeous and his oldest daughter (that'll be me) sang to her as the vows had just been said and sealed with a kiss. My eyes were dry.
My eyes were dry during the speeches; even my dad's speech which was heartwarming and lovely. I was more surprised than anything; considering at my wedding he brought up my weaknesses as a child (my lack of competitiveness in sports) and the 50 camels that my husband to be now was meant to pay up. (We are northern Bedouins, did you not know this?) No, no tears during that speech. I was mainly astounded that my dad could be that serious. It's was great Dad. I'm proud of you.
Then it was time for my speech. The maid of honour speech. I had not prepared. Figured I'd wing it. That once I was up at the podium and microphone I'd find good words and wisdom to pass on to my little sister as she entered marriage. Ha. What a joke. Me. Words of wisdom about marriage. Let's see, don't forget who you are. Don't be someone you're not. Don't fight but don't be silent either. Be yourself and be true always. Don't forget romance. Forget order sometimes and live in chaos. Be impulsive and throw caution to the wind; just be safe. Be great friends but not best friends. You need to be best friends with someone else. Have sex, but not because you feel you need to because you're now husband and wife, but because it's amazing to have sex with someone you love. It's not so great to have sex with your best friend. Just sayin. Get drunk together; and take care of each other when the other is alone in the hell of over drinking. Go on dates; not because you have to, but because you used to, even if you do have kids. Leave them at home; they'll be ok. I promise. Take evenings to do things on your own without your spouse and child(ren). You're entitled and you can. Explore whatever it is you want to explore. Don't stop doing anything just because you're now married or have children. Remember your reasons for getting married. It wasn't because of this - so you could have a party. It was because you love each other and because you want to be together. But if you don't love each other the same way, it's also ok to not be together. But be friends, always. You are now so there's no reason why you shouldn't be tomorrow.
This is what I probably would have said, or something more eloquent. But I didn't. I would also have said something about how I miss Mom and how much she would have loved being part of Karin's wedding. I would have said a small prayer and lifted a glass to make sure everyone knew that we missed her and loved her still. Even after 11 years. It just doesn't get better.
I didn't say any of that either. My sister had done such an amazing job at making sure Mom was part of her wedding. The donation cards with Mom's wedding picture, the charm she had on her bouquet with Mom's image and the brooch with her initial B on her dress. I believe she also wore Mom's engagement ring but I could be wrong. Nonetheless, she included her, in every possible way. I love her for that. I didn't mention Mom in my speech because my vocal cords would have failed me, the tears would have flown without stop and I would not have been able to find a way to keep the evening cheerful. It's better this way. And it's probably better that I didn't say any of those "important" messages either.
What I did say, in not so many words, is that I'm lucky to have my little sister on this side of the Atlantic Ocean and my life would not be the same without her. This is the truth.
Then I cried.
This past September it was my sister's time to walk down the aisle. I was a bit distracted by life to be totally involved in her wedding details, on the other hand, she is a bit of a control freak
but an extremely organized one. She didn't mind. I think.
Back to the wedding.
It was a beautiful and amazing wedding. Everyone had a great time. During the ceremony I managed to keep my eyes dry even while my little girl walked down the aisle in her beautiful flower girl dress making sure the petals were properly placed along the way; marking the path for Karin to find her husband-to-be. They were also dry when my dad sat in the front row crying over his beautiful bride of a daughter looking so gorgeous and his oldest daughter (that'll be me) sang to her as the vows had just been said and sealed with a kiss. My eyes were dry.
My eyes were dry during the speeches; even my dad's speech which was heartwarming and lovely. I was more surprised than anything; considering at my wedding he brought up my weaknesses as a child (my lack of competitiveness in sports) and the 50 camels that my husband to be now was meant to pay up. (We are northern Bedouins, did you not know this?) No, no tears during that speech. I was mainly astounded that my dad could be that serious. It's was great Dad. I'm proud of you.
Then it was time for my speech. The maid of honour speech. I had not prepared. Figured I'd wing it. That once I was up at the podium and microphone I'd find good words and wisdom to pass on to my little sister as she entered marriage. Ha. What a joke. Me. Words of wisdom about marriage. Let's see, don't forget who you are. Don't be someone you're not. Don't fight but don't be silent either. Be yourself and be true always. Don't forget romance. Forget order sometimes and live in chaos. Be impulsive and throw caution to the wind; just be safe. Be great friends but not best friends. You need to be best friends with someone else. Have sex, but not because you feel you need to because you're now husband and wife, but because it's amazing to have sex with someone you love. It's not so great to have sex with your best friend. Just sayin. Get drunk together; and take care of each other when the other is alone in the hell of over drinking. Go on dates; not because you have to, but because you used to, even if you do have kids. Leave them at home; they'll be ok. I promise. Take evenings to do things on your own without your spouse and child(ren). You're entitled and you can. Explore whatever it is you want to explore. Don't stop doing anything just because you're now married or have children. Remember your reasons for getting married. It wasn't because of this - so you could have a party. It was because you love each other and because you want to be together. But if you don't love each other the same way, it's also ok to not be together. But be friends, always. You are now so there's no reason why you shouldn't be tomorrow.
This is what I probably would have said, or something more eloquent. But I didn't. I would also have said something about how I miss Mom and how much she would have loved being part of Karin's wedding. I would have said a small prayer and lifted a glass to make sure everyone knew that we missed her and loved her still. Even after 11 years. It just doesn't get better.
I didn't say any of that either. My sister had done such an amazing job at making sure Mom was part of her wedding. The donation cards with Mom's wedding picture, the charm she had on her bouquet with Mom's image and the brooch with her initial B on her dress. I believe she also wore Mom's engagement ring but I could be wrong. Nonetheless, she included her, in every possible way. I love her for that. I didn't mention Mom in my speech because my vocal cords would have failed me, the tears would have flown without stop and I would not have been able to find a way to keep the evening cheerful. It's better this way. And it's probably better that I didn't say any of those "important" messages either.
What I did say, in not so many words, is that I'm lucky to have my little sister on this side of the Atlantic Ocean and my life would not be the same without her. This is the truth.
Then I cried.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Country Music
I've also re-found Country Music (some of you may shudder but it is the truth)
Current Favourites
Stuck like Glue - Sugarland
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5iDPw_qjhtM
Little White Church - Little Big Town
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B077Dw_zDe0
This Ain't Nothing - Craig Morgan
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eSdItuvBxc8
Love Like Crazy - Lee Brice
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c0f5g18EbG4
The House that Built Me - Miranda Lambert
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQYNM6SjD_o
Current Favourites
Stuck like Glue - Sugarland
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5iDPw_qjhtM
Little White Church - Little Big Town
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B077Dw_zDe0
This Ain't Nothing - Craig Morgan
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eSdItuvBxc8
Love Like Crazy - Lee Brice
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c0f5g18EbG4
The House that Built Me - Miranda Lambert
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQYNM6SjD_o
HTML Hell
It's been way over a year since I sat down and wrote. Too much has happened to be able to write it all out. And to be honest, I'm not really interested in writing about past events. So, currently, I log in to this old blog, only to find that my lovely background that I slaved over to create and include (that's an overexaggeration but hey) has been "removed or deleted by Photobucket"? Ok, I say, I'll just choose a regular template until I can find some time and modify according to my liking. No problem. Wrong. This girl has completely forgotten her HTML language. I actually got really good at making changes, moving this and that, adding such and such...that's all gone. Poof out the windy.
Oh well, I'll just change it to a simple template, one I don't have to think about. Yay, it worked...sort of. Now it's pretty in pink with lovely shadow birds flying off to far places...but my watermark stamp letting me know that the image I once had, is no longer available is STILL THERE...taunting me.
So I read the HTML lingo and try desperatly to find the location of that image to remove it...can't. Being the way I am, I want to run to the nearest Chapters and buy a book on HTML language or research online for a "how-to" video on writing a blog in techie speak.
However, I decide to write out my frustration and go from there.
It's been a lovely summer. (Topic change make me feel like I'm in control.) The backyard has seen a makeover with tree branches cut down, bushes receiving a complete overhaul, plants being moved around and of course a beautiful pergola and cedar deck extension on the existing one. New "conversation piece", fish in the pond, (see my fish entry on Emmalicious), a firepit and just lovely lovely peace.
I've found a new favourite drink - Vodka Gimlet...who knew lime and vodka was so fantastic, shaken with sugar and ice...oh my.
Simon found our fridge packed with fresh limes and wondered what the heck was for supper one day. 24 limes take up a lot of space. (They were on sale!!)
It's almost September...cooler evenings mean sleeping is easier. Love it.
Almost September means my dad is visiting...I'm sure there will be a post about that...along with my sister's wedding.
So long for now.
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