Thank You

I remember standing on a chair in your kitchen helping you wash dishes.

I remember sitting on your kitchen floor putting cans of food in your cupboards.

I remember you putting plastic down under your sheets to protect your mattress from my inevitable pee. I also remember you letting me sleep with you in your bed anyway.

I remember going to the bank with you in your enormous Buick Wildcat.

I remember eating rum flavored lifesavers from your purse.

I remember you getting me stuck in a turnstyle at Fred Meyer.

I remember laughing with you.

I remember sitting on the couch in the living room staring out the window waiting for your car to pull up when it was my turn to spend the weekend with you.

I remember you taking me to countless movies. I bet you didn't like any of them.

I remember you brushing my hair.

I remember you cooking me eggs, toast, and bacon for breakfast.

I remember staying the night with you after Grandpa died.

I remember you kicking bulk sour patch kids under the bins at Smith's that I had spilled all over the floor. I remember dividing up 5 baggies of candy for my siblings and I to share when it was time to go back home.

I remember bringing my friends up to visit you when I was in High School. I remember you always made us laugh.

I remember an old towel protecting the coffee table from our nacho cheese doritos and salsa.

I remember your sense of humor.

I remember crying when I told you I was pregnant.

I remember visiting you nearly every Sunday with Dad.

I remember you every time I see a Dean Koontz book.

I remember you always making me feel special and loved.

I miss you Grandma.

Have You Ever Heard the One About the Tape Measure?

Lola finds it hysterical.

egg whites and whipping cream are no match for...

Beater Boy.

He's fearsome.




He's fearless.




He...




wears his mommy's snow boots.

strange things afoot at the circle k

A few weeks ago I was walking into my neighborhood grocery store, Harmons (da da). Did anyone get that?? From the old Harmon's commercials...nevermind.

Anyway, I am walking through the parking lot and can't help but notice an older model brown Ford LTD crammed, I mean CRAMMED full of....(is the suspense killing you??)...bread. All kinds of hostess wonderbread, hamburger buns, hot dog buns, you name it it was in there. The passenger seat was full, the backseat was full and the trunk was also brimming with wonderbread. How do I know that? Because it was open. Weird, I know.

The specatacle brought many questions to my mind. Who was this person? Where in the world did they get all of this bread? It made me think of my grandma's older-folks apartment when sometimes there was a stash of bread in the foyer that was fair game for anyone who wanted it. However, there was never in that foyer anywhere near the quantity of bread I saw in this person's LTD. The most pressing question the bread-car aroused was, "why oh why don't you have your camera so you can show that one person who reads your blog a picture of this bread-car?"

Surprisingly as time went on I forgot all about the bread car. Until yesterday.

Yesterday I was driving back from, you guessed it, my neighborhood grocer. I was thinking about whatever happened to be rolling around between my ears at any given moment and I saw the bread car! It was parked in front of a chain-link fence blocking off a canal in an area frequented by all sorts of folks feeding ducks.

The presumed owner of the bread-car was elderly and doing some fantastic gymnastical maneuvers in an attempt to get handfuls of bread over the fence to the eager ducks waiting on the other side. Here is the kicker: I know the owner of the bread car. He lives behind me.

Are you waiting for the point of this story? Well, guess what? There isn't one.

Why I Prefer to Shop with Humans of the Female Variety

me: I can't decide if I want to buy these pants or not. Are they too tight?

Quinsta: I don't know, are they?

me: Do you think they are too tight?

Quinsta: I think the wearer of the pants would be the person to know if they are too tight or not.

me: sigh.

Quinsta: If they are uncomfortable then they are too tight.


That is why I prefer to go shopping with a fellow female who at this point will tell me if my pants look too tight. Because, really, who cares if they feel too tight anyway. If they look good they should be worn no matter how uncomfortable they are. Is that so wrong?

My mother taught me this lesson at a very young age while french-braiding my hair. In the quest for a lump-free, flawless braid, she was pulling each section so tight it felt like my ears were stretched to the back of my head and when I whined about it she simply informed me without any compassion in her voice that, "beauty hurts."

I feel a kinship with my 10th Century Japanese sisters who had their feet bound. Okay, I guess I got a little carried away. It isn't the same thing. At all.

a moment and my salad

I am walking across the parking lot holding Forrest's tiny hand while he trots beside me clutching his red balloon. Nestled in her carseat which is hooked around my left arm, Lola is positively sucking the very life out of her binkie. The sun has made it's first appearance so far this January and is warming our faces and melting the snow.

Sweet and silver-haired she must have been seventy-something. Her wrinkled eyes surveyed our trio and the way she smiled at me spoke directly into my heart. It said, "enjoy every precious second." Just like that she was on her way into the store and I was busy loading, fastening, and buckling, on my way to the rest of my day.

On a side note: my lunch today was so yummy I thought I would share. I was trying to recreate a greek salad my aunt made a few months ago. My version included: lettuce (of course), tomatoes, cucumbers, kalamata olives, red onions, tons of feta cheese (the very best part) topped with a raspberry vinegarette. Dee-lish.

Welcome Baby Liam

And Em can see her toes again.

At a whopping 9 pounds (yes, I said NINE pounds) baby Liam made his long awaited entrance into this earthly world on December 29, 2008. Since Em was induced 10 days (yes, I said TEN days) after her due date had come and gone I think it may be safe to say that little Liam is a procrastinator. But he is such a sweet little procrastinator.

Here he is in the nursery where he showed off his amazing prowess to the other babies:



Here is proud papa with his new baby:



Jeff- you are a daddy!!! Congratulations. I am so happy for you. Here is one more shot of the little big guy.



Even though I am fairly certain that last 10 days must've been a tad tortorous for Em, I know she would be the first to say that sweet baby was more than worth the wait. Liam will soon learn how lucky he is to have been born to such great parents.

On the day you were born
the Earth turned, the Moon pulled,
the Sun flared, and, then, with a push,

you slipped out of the dark quiet
where suddenly you could hear
a circle of people singing
with voices familiar and clear.

"Welcome to the spinning world," the people sang
as they washed your new, tiny hands.

"Welcome to the green Earth," the people sang
as they wrapped your wet, slippery body.

And as they held you close,
they whispered into your open, curving ear,
"We are so glad you've come!"

On the Day You Were Born
by Debra Frasier