Just Horsin' Around

'Tis the Year of the Horse, after all.

I finally decided I better begin the lunar New Year by snapping a shot of these winter beauties before they were gone.  Bless that woman who once lived here.  She planted so many things.  I came across more bulbs in the ground. I can't wait to see what other presents she left us.

I finally planted some bulbs I bought months ago.  I should have planted them months ago.  Over one hundred planted.  If even just two survive, I will be impressed.  It was also time to light up our path again.  I'd been a little late purchasing new solar lights.

Then after earning my latest blister, and almost ruining a pair of jeans, I rewarded myself with some Panda.

And we allowed The Redhead to open this little purchase.  We were fortunate to have found it right as it came out.  These dolls are becoming an addiction.  Mostly for me.

I can't wait to see what The Horse has in store.

Don't let him fool you...

No matter what he says....

He loves this cat too.

Starbucks has everything...

So, quick little story for you folks today.  Like any normal person, I was recently getting candy bars for The Redhead's teachers for their Chinese New Year cards.  I was going to need one extra, but then I remembered that The Redhead's teacher was currently part of a Weight Regime (and yes, I meant Regime), so I decided to step up my game.  What better than a little $5 gift card to Starbucks?  That way, if she's going to cheat, she can choose what she wants to spend her watcher points on. Right??

So, I decided to stop by Starbucks, one of the best places on the planet.  The drive through line was packed, so I parked and went inside because per usual, everyone was waiting in the car line.  Somehow, it came up that I was buying this for the teacher for The Chinese New Year and next, this conversation ensued:

Cashier/Barista:  Would you rather have a Chinese New Year gift card?  Were there not any out front?  We must be out.  Wait, let me check the drive-through.  YAY!  Here you go.  

Without any pause or words from me.  And who knew Starbucks had actual gift cards for the lunar new year??!  Well, now, I do.

Things that wouldn't surprise you, we now have Valentine's photos and cards ordered.  But not from Starbucks.  

All That's Left

Unfortunately, there used to be a lot more taffy in that bag.  But alas, that's all that is left from our little trip to Old Sacramento last weekend.  We finally made it back, all to buy a sweatshirt for someone, and picked up some taffy too.  And then consequently ate way too much taffy.

Perhaps, it's a good thing we hadn't been there since Labor Day weekend.  I'm fairly certain my thighs don't need anymore saltwater taffy.

The Cat and the Fit

The Wii Fit.

Apparently everybody's getting in shape.

Which probably needs to happen, especially since I keep baking things like this.

The Results of Laundry Day

Mondays are Laundry Day.  Not everyone does all of their laundry in one day, but I do.  I mentioned this once before, but I started this when I worked full-time nights.  I was still on a day schedule come Monday, so I got all the laundry done because it was my only opportunity to do so.  I discovered during this time that we had enough clothes and there wasn't a need to do it more often, so I've just kept to that routine.  

And while doing a jeans load, I decided to toss in my geometry Toms.  Well, unfortunately, I also put in a scoop of Oxyclean, and now my shoes are no longer that solid navy blue color with sharp contrast.  Now they look like faded denim.  I almost cried at first, but I think I can live with them.  They're just really different all of a sudden.

Other results of laundry day?  Well, I watched a lot of Season 2 of New Girl on DVD, courtesy of the wonder that is the library.  I watch DVDs on Monday while doing laundry.  It's a lovely excuse to pin me down, and this way, I get every single piece of laundry put away, and that's really important to me these days.  I also went through a box of beauty products that were still confined to the garage.  And next thing you know, I ended up with red toenails, a clay mask on my face, gleaming hair from some shampoo sample, and this lotion all over my skin that was supposed to smell like honey, but smells more like dishwater.  Did I mention I watched A LOT of New Girl, Season Two?

And before the day was done, I took advantage of a super deal from my favorite Bath & Body store. Because obviously, I needed MORE products.

And do you know what I say about that day?

Well done.  Well done, Monday.

They consider me a cook

I was turning a box of cake mix into cookies, just because I could, and Mister Man told me, "just to let you know, they think of you a cook."  He meant his colleagues in his office.  I replied, "did you let them know that I've baked more in the last six months than I had in two years?"  He was all, "not quite, but at Christmas I let them know you were making up for lost time."




I love to cook.  Some people know me from my baking phases.  They know me from all the experimenting and the swordfish and the spaghetti pie.  Mexican Manicotti.   They know me from baking cakes for my preschool class' birthdays.  They know me for making Rice Krispies every single week.  For absolutely no reason whatsoever.


And then some people know me from my crazy schedules.  They know me baking at 2 am for The Redhead's preschool class the next day.  I think for a few years, I did all my best baking between the hours of 1 am-3 am.  I couldn't help myself.  I just had to.  How else was it going to get done?



Then there's our sitter who probably didn't think we ever cooked, just based upon the contents of our cabinets.  All of those boxes of processed foods that I would never eat.  The expired packages.  Wasted olive oil.  The stuff lost in the freezer.  Just thinking about the amount of food we wasted makes me cringe.  The ample supply of dinosaur nuggets, Macaroni and cheese, hot dogs, canned soup, and pasta.  I'm not proud of that time period. The Redhead liked it though because those were her foods.  I was never home to be subjected to eating them, and that was Mister Man's idea of cooking.


Then there were all the years sitting at family dinners where Mister Man's grandmother would ask if I was finally cooking.  Everyone would act like this was new, as Mister Man and I just smirked at one another.  We'd hear over and over, "oh, you are cooking?"  This went on for so many years, so many dinners.  In fact, I have been cooking since six months into our relationship.  I cooked for our first Valentine's Day, 2000, chicken fettucini, and somehow it turned out okay.  That was the first time I cooked chicken and fortunately, no one died.  After that, I went on a spree of cooking all sorts of dishes, mostly bizarre ones.  If it wasn't challenging, it wasn't made in our apartment.  Cooking replaced us eating out all the time, but honestly, it cost probably close to the same.


...Until I learned the art of basing our meals on the grocery sales, but that's a whole other story.


I wasn't taught how to bake or cook.  My parents didn't let me play on the stove or in the oven.  Even though sometimes I did it on my own anyway.  I learned how to make waffles on my own using the waffle iron and would surprise everyone with breakfast.  Mostly, my mother would encourage me to just cook using the microwave, but I think deep down, I always knew life would be better out of that oven.  Until flash forward to years later, I was making cheesecake and macaroni and cheese with my friends and blew up butter in the microwave and scorched the macaroni.  Who knew you could ruin such things, but I managed to.  And then that first Valentine's Day with Mister Man came along, and well, I was finally ready to settle the score.


I'm not a chef by any means.  I just enjoy concocting things, getting a little messy, and most of all, I just want to smell it all.  I want that aroma in my kitchen, an aroma that not even Scentsy can reproduce.  I want to try new things, perfect old ones, and enjoy the food that I shove into my mouth.



And now, Mister Man's coworkers think I'm a cook.  They wouldn't be the first coworkers to think so.  But, I hope to not ruin that reputation.  Mostly, for me.

It Had it Coming

That 60's/70's wood paneling had it coming.

Which is exactly why it's almost all now awaiting tomorrow's trash pickup.

There aren't a lot of places better suited for wood paneling than a landfill.  

And it's all because Mister Man was curious about what was behind the paneling in the office.  I was apprehensive, considering the mess that is still our bedroom walls, but alas, there was no stopping him.  

Not even that disgusting glue.  That I still see daily in our bedroom.  It looks like vomit to me.

Do you know what I see behind that paneling?  Another project.

While he took down one wall of paneling in the office, I reminded him that there was still a wall of paneling in our bedroom and so he took that down too.  And all but one section is now ready to depart the premises via our trash.  Luckily, it rips apart quite easily.  He took it down, I was the one who got to rip it apart for the trash.  I think that worked out quite nicely.


I won't miss that paneling.  But I hate that glue.  Sigh.

Picture this...

I've been slowly trying to find our guest room.  And while doing some deep organizing, which I'll be doing for weeks, I'm sure, I found lots of paper only worth recycling.

I also unearthed all of these envelopes of professional photos.

I spent a long time going through them and started making stacks to send to different people.  Because I don't need all of these photos.  At least not multiples of the same photo.  Too many.  Too many photos.  I love her beautiful face; I love her dazzling, unforgettable personality. But someone else can store all of these.


So picture me having far too many photos of The Redhead.  Hmmm....not difficult to do.

The Hunt for Tide Pools

While trekking through Chinatown last Sunday, The Redhead asked if we could head to the ocean this weekend.  We thought that sounded like an excellent plan.  She was hoping to spot some wildlife.  And so we spent Saturday morning driving to Santa Cruz.  Mister Man recently went there for business, but we haven't visited as a family, so it seemed like as good of a time as any to head south.  It's time we start exploring our new state just a wee bit more.

Most importantly, we went hunting for tide pools.

We found the shore.  We found Natural Bridges State Park.  And we found tide pools.  We also went to the wharf and had the best view along with our lunch.  We gazed out into the deep blue and saw sailboats, kayaks, and even sea lions swimming.  And then as we walked further down the wharf, we found more sea lions.  And perhaps I took a few photos of our day.  

I could never grow tired of seeing this from the car.  And if I do grow tired of it, then please euthanize me.  Drown me in the very waters I have neglected.

I forgot to wear flip flops.  

The Redhead informed us that this was most likely a home for the trapdoor spider.  She knew a lot about these spiders.  I did not.  Until now.

Bacon of the sea.

Oh, barnacles.

The tide pools are actually up quite high.  In some of my other photos, you won't be able to tell just how high up they are because the waves are that massive.

In this photo, you can't tell how high we are.  It looks like the ocean is level to the rocks.  It's not.  It's an illusion.

We've only seen "tide pools" at aquariums.  Seeing them in their natural habitat is even more amazing.

Again, we are not level with the ocean at this height.  That's just how high the waves reach.

Walking back to the beach from the tide pools, I overhear another woman telling someone, "I'm a California girl.  I can't live two hours from the beach.  No way, no how." Well, California is a big state.  Most people live at least two hours from the beach.  And we live two hours from some beaches, and it's worth the drive.  Every time.  It's such a luxury to live even two hours away.  So amazing, truly.  After living in the Midwest, and the closest thing we had was a lake, this is the most beautiful part of our move.  I love that we can do this on the weekends.  Whenever we want.

When we first saw this rock structure, we hadn't realized it had an opening.  It's all about where you're standing.

The Redhead must have been starving when she found this bone on the beach.  Rightly so.  It was nearing one o'clock, so we headed to the wharf.

We ate at this neat little place called Woody's and were fortunate to sit by the windows with such a mesmerizing view.  Our food took forever, but it only allowed us more time to keep staring out into the water.

The black lump in the photo is a sea lion.  How lucky were we to be awaiting our lunch and watching sea lions swimming simultaneously?

This was the kiddie hot dog.  I fear what the adult version would look like.

More sea lions!

We heard these birds screaming quite loudly.  We were curious what was causing all that noise, and why, and they were tattle-telling on a sea lion.

The bunch of birds is the location of the sea lion again.

We kept hearing barking.  I just knew there were more sea lions around, and sure enough.

The Redhead was beyond thrilled.

Then, as I was admiring yet another view, we heard yet another commotion.

We were so glad we walked the whole wharf.  Had we not, we would have missed so much.  If you ever happen to be in Santa Cruz, make sure you pay attention to everything.

The Redhead could have stayed forever.  We could have too. Next time, we shall stay for a whole weekend.

Yes, Santa Cruz, we most certainly will be back.  For a weekend.

But in the meantime, I must not forget The Cats have their own police force.