In the Wee Hours of the Night , , ,

Beautiful women lined the streets ....

Young ...



and old.



Well .... I guess I should say "old-er", not "old" because look at these beauties, do they look old to you?

We had a party, waiting for the midnight premiere of Eclipse.



We played cards, read magazines, ordered food, and made friendship bracelets with floss.



Then we went inside and watched the show. We cheered for the wolf boy with the big muscles, wearing shorts and tennis shoes, and sighed when Edward proposed to Bella. (I for one, was glad he did not take off his shirt.)



I have to tell you, I liked the outside party better than the movie. But what do I know.


Then in the wee, wee hours of the morning, we took the party to Denny's, where we sang out loud at the table while policemen on their coffee break rolled their eyes and wished for quiet.



That was my second favorite part of the night. Who doesn't love singing in Denny's at 4:00 a.m.
(Policemen, that's who.)

Don't they know that vampires come out at night?

Nap

Can't post today. Must take nap and conserve energy. I'm staying up all night. That's right.....




Wish me luck.

I'm too old for this.

Good Book Alert

Are you looking for a good summer read? Look no further, this is it.



Click on the image if you want to order a copy. I'm telling you, I couldn't put it down.

It Was So Uncomfortable I Had to Avert My Eyes.

Last night I took Eden and Claire out to dinner to celebrate Claire's birthday. Matt's in Israel again, so he missed out on a night of fun. We went to Macaroni Grill. The kids have never been there and they wanted a new dining adventure. I've only been twice myself, so off we went.

We sat down and were in the process of ordering when Eden remarked 'Hey, this place sort of reminds me of Disneyland -- New Orleans Square.' I was in the middle of agreeing with him when all of the sudden I heard a male falsetto voice break forth in song. The voice was loud, albeit, perfectly on key, and it was singing opera, very slowly, with a lot of control. My kids and I looked around and saw that the voice came from a man, dressed in black, who was singing to a couple at a table-for-two in the corner. He sang and sang, while the couple sat there, heads down, looking at the floor. They had that "deer in the headlights" look on their faces.

It was so uncomfortable watching the whole thing take place. In my head I was trying to send brain wave messages to the Opera man: 'Stop singing. Stop singing. Abort mission. Abort mission.' But he didn't hear me. He was too engaged in Ave Maria.

Then I panicked. I realized that is what Macaroni Grill does to celebrate special occasions!

There are few things I hate more in this world than singing waiters. I know, I know .... hate is a really strong word. I don't use it very often. But I promise I'm not exaggerating when I say I hate to sit with a fake smile on my face as someone stands in front of me singing -- while onlookers watch. It makes me so uncomfortable, I have to avert my eyes -- just like the couple at the table-for-two.

My discomfort is so severe that I almost passed out once at Blue Bunny in St. George. A singing waiter showed up and did not stop singing for at least 20 minutes. I finally had to yell at a manager: "Make it Stop!!!!!!"

I did not leave a tip.

Since that day, my family has a code word for uncomfortable situations -- Blue Bunny. If you ever hear me utter that word, you'll know I'm in trouble. If I say it twice, I'm in crisis mode.

As Opera man concluded his performance, Claire leaned over and whispered 'He isn't coming over here to sing to me, is he?'

I responded 'I hope not, because that will completely ruin my lobster ravioli.' My hands began to sweat.

Claire shuddered and proceeded to beg 'Please don't let him come over here! Pleaaaaase!' It was a plea like you've never heard. And I completely understood. This was code Blue Bunny all the way.

I tapped our waitress on the shoulder with my sweaty hand and explained our situation. 'Excuse me' I said. 'I don't want to sound rude, but I have issues. I get really embarrassed if I have to sit and watch someone sing to me, especially if they are singing Opera. To make matters worse, I have passed this gene on to my kids. They have issues too. Is there any way we can be spared this situation tonight so we can enjoy our birthday dinner in peace?'

She said 'I totally understand. I don't like singing situations either. I will inform the management.' I was so thankful that our waitress was a compassionate woman. I immediately felt like I had set down a load of bricks. Crisis averted.

I learned something as I sat there with immunity, watching all the other birthday diners get a visit from the Opera singer. Every single one of them looked up at the ceiling, or down at the floor until the music was over. All but one -- a girl who was turning 20. She was thrilled to have an Opera singer at her table. She let him sing three or four songs and clapped at the end of every number. What a brave, brave soul to look right in the eyes of a madrigal, and genuinely smile. I was so glad that she had the courage to give this star the applause he deserved. He was very good you know. I just needed him to stand way back and sing from a distance -- far away from my personal space.

I seriously think that Macaroni Grill upper management needs to sit in the dining room and take a good look around. They might double their yearly profits if they revise the floor show.

In the end, all I have to say is this: Blue Bunny went out of business a year after our visit. I blame the singing waters who didn't know when to stop. As for Macaroni Grill, the food was good, but I don't think I'm going back. Ever. I just can't take my chances. I'd be a nervous wreck waiting for the appearance of the Opera star.

This is how I remember her ....

On a birthday that seems like it was just yesterday, we had a prom party, complete with dates. Wasn't her fellow handsome?



We took prom pictures down at the Redhawk waterfall -- which is where everyone in Temecula takes pictures for prom, or weddings, or La Quinceañeras.

I blinked, and today Claire turned 15 -- Quince.



We might have to pay another visit to the waterfall for an official Quinceañera picture. Is it kosher to take a Quinceañera photograph with your friends if they aren't in fancy bright dresses? (Is it even kosher to say kosher when you are talking about Quince? I hope so, because I love using both of these words, and it's not often that I get to say them in the same sentence.)

That was Claire's dream when she was 7 -- a Quinceanera party with a colorful fancy dress. She could hardly wait to turn 15. Every time we went past a store with prom dresses, she would say "I want that for my Quince!" And I would say "What in the world is a Quince?"

Dreams change.

Claire no longer wants a fancy dress. Now she wants a photo of her friends dressed like vampires wearing fanny packs ... because that's what she's doing to celebrate her birthday .... the midnight premier of Eclipse.

If you are wondering what a fanny pack has to do with Eclipse, the answer is "nothing." Claire and her friends are trying to bring them back into style. They've taken to wearing fanny packs all the time. I had to put my foot down and say "You are not wearing that to church!"

Like I said, dreams change. But I never would have guessed Claire's Quince would involve vampires and bad 80's fashion.

Happy birthday beautiful girl.

I love you.

Post Script: If you are curious about the prom party, click here for more information.

I Forgot to Mention ...

I spent last week at Girl's Camp!

There is nothing like being in the mountains with a pack of beautiful young women. And by "pack" I mean 350 girls.

There is a spirit there unlike any place I've ever been.

It's light ... that shines in the face of each and every girl.



At camp, there's a lot of bonding, which includes singing, dancing, laughing, crying ...

and screaming ... happy girl screaming.

I love all that stuff, don't you?



They were good to each other, these beautiful girls ... and, they were good to me.

They even put up with my snoring ... which was muffled a bit by someone who talked in their sleep. I could hear it through my ear plugs. It was quite the conversation.


They keep me young, these lovely young women.

Want to know the best camp prank? Claire's friend Lindsay had packets of sun screen that she slit open and filled with cream cheese. She walked up to innocent bystanders and said "Hey, you look like you are getting sunburned! Want to borrow some of my sunscreen?"



Hysterically funny watching someone rub cream cheese all over their arms and legs.

You have to be a good sport to survive girls camp.

Best skit? The adult leaders who spoofed Twilight.



However, Claire was pretty hilarious as Tina-Tina Sha-noose. You have to watch SNL to appreciate the Tina thing. I don't .... watch SNL, that is, so I was in the dark along with most of the moms in attendance.

Watch at your own risk. The girls made up this skit themselves.

I repeat, the girls made up this skit themselves.



Sad to be home again really. I loved girls camp that much.

I Don't Do This Often, But I Should.

It's 9:30 a.m. and I'm still in my pajamas.


I love the lazy days of summer. Even when my "to do" list is overflowing.

War Has Been Officially Declared

Oh it's on.



That's right. It happened again. Worse than before. This time the enemies identified themselves at a church youth dance. They proudly admitted their toilet paper escapades to Claire who immediately declared war:

"You are goin' down Carson and Jordan. Down!!!!"

The rules of engagement were established right there on the dance floor: No food items can be used. No attacking cars.

Claire came home from the dance and told me what had happened. I felt a little sick to my stomach. I falsely accused Devin when he delivered a birthday invitation a couple of weeks ago. He rang the doorbell and when I answered, I said: "You are a devil, you know that!" He looked at me with a blank stare and said "What????" I said "You know what!!!" He said "No, I don't!"

I thought it was just an act.

I think I owe Devin an apology. And some cookies.

See what happens in war -- you get paranoid. Paranoid!!

Guess where we were last night at 1:00 a.m. Yep. We counter attacked on a weeknight. I drove the getaway car. I would have taken pictures, but we were ambushed by someone with a garden hose.

Picnic

Summer's here, which means it's time for the annual company picnic. I don't know what it is about hanging out for an afternoon with the people Matt works with, but I dread it. I don't know why -- they are all nice, they really are. I guess I'm not one for chit-chatting with strangers, and at a company party that's what you do. Chit-chat.

Here's how it usually goes down: We drive to the party. The kids head straight for the giant jumper, Matt wanders off to talk with co-workers for the afternoon and I am stuck at a table with some strange woman who hates being there just as much as me. One time I spent 2 hours listening to a woman talk about her Beanie Baby collection. I found it a little alarming that a grown woman without children was so passionate about Beanie Babies, which is pretty rude of me since I've got quirks of my own -- like keeping a running list of movie stars I've seen in person.

This year, the company picnic was in San Diego. We drove down to Point Loma and pulled up to a beach with an array of easy-ups adorned with Hawaiian garb. Matt said "This is it." We all got out of the car and schlopped our way over to the picnic as I uttered the same thing I say every year "Promise me that we won't have to stay more than an hour!" (Which by the way, never happens.)

Matt immediately wandered off and I was stuck with two kids who were too big for the inflatable toys. They started whining "This is soooooooo lame!"



I lectured them. "Kids! We need to do this for Dad! Stop complaining and go have fun!"

But in my head I was whining too because this was the first year that we've attended the John Deere company picnic and we didn't know a soul. At least when Matt worked for Hunter I could track down Beanie Baby lady and ask her if she'd added anything to her collection. Now I had to start all over.

We sat down at a table and I heard a voice over a loud speaker say "Bingo is starting in 5 minutes!!" That was a huge relief. I could get lost in the world of Bingo for a few hours. I said to Eden and Claire "Grab some Bingo cards, at least two for each of us. This might be fun." They stomped over to a big bin on the grass and picked out some cards.




As the game began, the announcer said "We are playing Big T and the winner will have their pick of a Tommy Bahama beach umbrella, or a skim board." The kids were immediately hooked.

As we sat there playing (but not winning), two women sat down beside us. They had Bingo cards too. I don't know how it happened but in-between games, one of the women said "I finally got some rhubarb in my garden this year." That's all it took.

I said "Rhubarb? I love rhubarb! I canned some last week!"

The lady replied "You can rhubarb??? Me too!!"

We set down our Bingo cards and started to talk. Then two other women moseyed over and began talking about books. Pretty soon there was a flock of us chatting away about book clubs, recipes, and travel. I forgot all about the time and enjoyed the afternoon.

Not long after that, I noticed Claire had left the table and was gabbing away with another teenage girl as they sat together on the grass. They discovered they were the same age and shared the exact same birthday. How often does that happen! Then they heard there was a Limbo contest and ran off arm in arm.



I tell you, that Claire can Limbo. She was beaten by an adult man, but she hung in there until the very end.


Eden .... I lost him after the first Bingo game when he discovered the ice cream bar.

Four hours passed just like that. It ended up being a great day. We left the beach with sunburns, and the phone numbers of new friends.

I think we've all changed our minds about the annual picnic.

Two Peas

How many people do you know that have passion for Iceland, Swedish design, Bjork, Post Modernism, film making, speak Danish, and collect sand from the beaches they visit? I know two -- Wes J. and Eden B. Actually, Eden only knows a bit of Danish, but he wishes he knew Danish and works on it occasionally.

I guess you are wondering ... who is Wes?
Sorry to disappoint you but Wes is not in this picture, because he's taking it. Too bad you can't see him because he's a good looking guy. This is a picture of me, Eden, my cyber friend Lyndsay J. and the oh so darling Finn and Maya.

So about Wes. Wes is Eden grown up. I'm not kidding. Wes is also Lyndsay's husband, who was kind enough to give Eden a one-on-one class yesterday about film making. Wes is in the American Film Institute graduate program in Los Angeles, which is where we are standing in this picture. Did you follow all that? It was a little confusing for a minute, huh!

I've blogged about Lyndsay several times. She's the genius graphic artist behind my logo and my beautiful blog designs. I just love her. We have never met in person, until yesterday -- when I took Eden to L.A. to meet up with Wes.

I have to say that when I began blogging, I never expected to form sweet friendships online. but I did -- people I truly love knowing -- like Lyndsay. It was such a pleasure to meet her in person. It was like we had known each other for years. The minute I walked into her bungalow, we picked right up with conversations that began with emails. There was so much to say, and too little time. I wish Lyndsay and Wes lived down the street from me in Temecula. We'd have so much fun. They are amazing people with adorable children. Adorable!!! And I don't give out that compliment unless I truly mean it. I wanted to chew on their cheeks (but I refrained less Lyndsay thought I was a little insane.)

Hey .... if Lyndsay and Wes lived down the street, then they would be neighbors with Blue Lily too. Would that be fun or what! I think they'd like each other .... a lot!

While I talked with Lyndsay and Finn, Wes shuffled Eden off to his studio where he spent the morning teaching Eden about lighting, green screens, and camera angles. Then we all went to lunch at a retro diner (where I learned that Wes and Eden also share a passion for French Toast), and finished up the day taking a tour of AFI. It was such fun. Wes even gave Eden some of his sand from Iceland. Yes, Wes has been to Iceland! How cool is that! Giving up some of his Icelandic sand is the mark of a true friend.

Thanks for a wonderful day Johnsons. Now I'm off to Home Depot to buy lighting equipment.

Post Script: Eden would like me to inform you that he forgot his hair gel. It looks like he has a Mo haircut in this picture! (He's a little particular about the way he looks.)

Summer?

Why is is 57 degrees out today, the first day of summer vacation? This is strange. Strange!!! It feels like winter outside. I'm actually wearing a sweater. In all the years I've lived in Temecula, I've never worn a sweater in June.

Eden refuses to wear a sweater on the last day of school!! He thinks that's just weird, because it's June for heaven's sake. But, he did cave and put on some long pants. That's weird too .... long pants in June?



Look at the car pool. They all have on long pants, except for Johnathan, who was brave and wore shorts. And Paige has on a long shirt, with a sweater! Am I in the Twilight Zone? Everyone is walking around like it's December.


Look! Even Big Shoe Lady, our crossing guard, has on a jacket. Big Shoe lady usually sports a tank top ... in June.


Man, I hope I'm not going to be trapped in the house with my kids for 2 months because it's too cold to go to the beach.

Miracle on Yellowstone Lane

Do you know what's better than Photography 125? Taking a photography class with my friend Wendy and her husband Tyler . You might know them as Blue Lily.

That's right! Thee Blue Lily.



Don't let this turquoise photograph of Wendy scare you. I call it 'Before I Knew What I Was Doing.' Wendy is as beautiful as they come . . .with long flowing red hair . . .which I covet.

Want to know something really funny? Wendy has taken photographs of my kids, we've chatted via email on a few occasions, we have mutual friends, and we live in the same semi-small community. But, we never see each other around town.

Never.

Strange, but true.

A few nights ago, Wendy emailed me and said 'Hey, I'm teaching a photography class on Thursday. I think you should come.' So I did. Last night as I was getting ready to head over to her house, I pulled up her address on Goggle Maps, and gasped!

She lives around the corner from me! Around the corner!!! Less than a mile away!!! How could I not know that? How could we be so close, and yet so far???

It's truly odd because I see total strangers every single day, like The Patriotic Partners, and Now Git. But, I have never run into Wendy. Maybe it's because she's busy traveling all over the world. Whatever the reason, I was excited to learn that Wendy is my neighbor .... and I can drop off treats as I'm out walking my dogs. Her house is right along our daily route.

I have to tell you about the miracle that took place last night.

On several occasions, I have expressed my feelings about my semester in Photography 125. It was agony. I pulled up my grades online last Monday and learned the final outcome -- I got a B, which is what I thought I would get, but it still makes me mad. Really mad. I worked really hard. I turned in every assignment. I got an A on the final exam. I can't figure out how I got a B! Admittedly, I learned a few things (mostly about Photoshop), but nothing about the camera has stuck with me. I look at my camera and think 'Now what was I supposed to do again?' I sat in that class every week, listening for two hours while the instructor did complicated math problems on the white board relating to aperture. I still have no idea what he was talking about. I thought it was just me, but I ran into a Emma, girl from my class, at Rubios yesterday and she said the same thing: 'I got a B, and I still don't know what the heck F-Stops are all about.' Her confession was a relief to my wounded soul. I saw Emma's pictures, they were good! She got a B too! What's up with that Mr. W? Somethings wrong with Photography 125, that's what!

Well, last night everything changed. Everything! Who knew that in two hours Blue Lily could sum up what I spent an entire semester trying to learn. Wendy and Tyler spoke my language. They explained how a camera works using phrases like "ISO is magical" and "this thingy here" which are words I can relate to. It was so simple -- I needed to learn from someone who can teach. And Wendy and Tyler can teach.

I left feeling so excited to get out and use my camera! I can't wait to take another session when Blue Lily gets from home from their summer travels. (Wendy is sort of like Where's Waldo these days.)

I have to give you a small sample of what I learned last night: The "metering mode" function.



You can correct light when you have lighting issues in any given situation! Like shadows on the face of your subject when they stand against a bright blue sky. We didn't even cover this in Photography 125! Have you ever tried taking a picture of a candle in a dark room -- say a birthday? Mine never work. But look at these photos! Look how they change when you use metering mode. Amazing. My life improved with the push of one button. I'm not going to show you any more than this. If I told you what I learned about Aperture, it would be way to much excitement for 1 post to handle.

I'm telling you. If you are interested in getting out of "automatic", you need to take a class from Blue Lily. And the best part is they have workshops all over the map. You can check out their schedule here. Seriously, it's worth every dime. (Tell them I sent you -- Crystal the nice neighbor.)

I can't wait for my Bermuda vacation next month. It's going to be fun wandering the island with a camera -- now that I know what I'm doing.

Thank you Blue Lily!!! You are the best! I so owe you some cupcakes. (And Eve too, because she's the one who told me about the 50 mm lens.)

Rendezvous

Last week Matt took a vacation from work ... to work on his car. I don't get it. Who would want to spend a week of vacation time to work on a car?

It's really ok that I don't get it, because Matt doesn't get why I would want to take a vacation to sew, or scrapbook -- which I do. I take vacations with my girlfriends and we hole up at a house, or a hotel and spend the entire time working on projects. My friends scrapbook and I make jewelry. It's parallel play at it's best.

Matt says he would rather chew his own leg off that do something like that. I feel the same way about working on cars, racing cars, or attending a car race. Good thing we both have friends who share our passions.

One thing I love when Matt is on his "car vacation", is meeting for lunch. He works a hour away from home so car vacations are one of the few times that we get to do this. I look forward to it.

Last week, we rendevoued at our new favorite Thai restaurant. (Our old one went out of business which was devastating -- we loved it that much.)


If I could only have one type of food for the rest of my life, this would be it. Thai food is a party in your mouth. You taste so many things at once -- sweet, hot, sour, savory, salty .... it's so good. If you've never tried it, you have to muster up some courage and check it out. It will surprise you. Really, it will!

If you do, here are some tips:

• When they ask you how spicy you want your dish say "1". Thai is pretty spicy and if you can tolerate "1" you can always move up the scale of hotness the next time you visit. I'm not a huge spicy fan, but I can tolerate #2. Matt likes #4, which is SPICY!
• Visit for lunch. Thai restaurants always have a great selection of lunch specials and with the special you can try several things in one sitting for a very low price.
• Definitely try one of the currys. My favorites are massaman curry with shrimp, green curry with chicken, and yellow curry with pork. You can't go wrong with any of them -- but massaman is my favorite. By the way, you can choose the meat you want in any of these dishes.
• Definitely try the Tom Kha soup. It's one of my all time favorite dishes. I've tried and tried to make this at home, but it never tastes the same. The owners of our Thai restaurant love me because I come in for a cup of this at least 2 times a week.
  

Here's what I had for lunch today -- Special #5 which included: tom kha soup, green curry over brown rice, egg roll, and a crab wonton. You might be looking at that green curry thinking "yuck." Don't let the look deceive you -- it's heavenly. It has a mild curry taste, with a hint of basil, honey and coconut milk.


After our delicious lunch, Matt and I went our separate ways. He went to Ace Hardware, and I went across the street to browse at Home Goods.

Love having days like these.

Post Script: If you live in Temecula, visit the Thai restaurant in the Target shopping center off Rancho California Road. It has a great selection and the owners are really nice.

Baptism

In Mormon culture, turning 8 is a really big deal. This is the age when children can get baptized and become a member of the Church. Mormons believe that children under the age of 8 are innocent, and free from sin. Eight is the age when children understand right and wrong and can be held accountable for their choices. A person can get baptized any time after age 8 -- if you are worthy, but not before.

When I was 8, I wanted to be baptized a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (aka Mormon Church). My parents were not members of the Church, or any church for that matter, but they allowed me to attend with neighbors and friends. From the age of 4 up through my elementary school years, my Mormon neighbors would come and pick me up for weekly meetings at the church building about a mile away from my house. I also had relatives that were Mormon and they took me as well.

Although I didn't understand much of the Mormon doctrine at that age, I knew how I felt when I attended Church. I felt loved by the people who served me, and I felt peace as I listened to the Sunday school lessons. I felt happy when I made good choices. I believed that Jesus Christ was God's son.

I will never forget the day I was baptized -- April 18th, 1967. One of my best friends was baptized the same day along with a few other 8 year olds who had just celebrated their birthdays. We got to use the baptismal font on Temple Square in Salt Lake City. My whole family came, and when it was over, we paid a visit to Snelgrove's Ice Cream Parlor where I had a Sunday with a plastic monkey hanging from the side. Who could forget that!

Mormons believe in baptism by immersion, which means that you are dunked completely under water. It symbolizes rebirth as your sins are washed away and you become new. A worthy male member of the Church who holds the priesthood performs this ordinance -- usually the father of the person being baptized. My father could not do this for me, so my Aunt's boyfriend had the honor, which was just fine because I loved him like a brother. Calvin and I dressed in white jump suits and took our place in the baptismal font. The only thing I remember about that moment was that I had to be baptized twice, because the first time, my foot popped up out of the water. I think Calvin was a little rattled that he had to repeat the process a second time. So was I -- I was worried water would go up my nose. (It didn't.)

Right after baptism, there is another ordinance that takes place -- confirmation. This is when you are confirmed a member of the Church and you receive the gift of Holy Ghost as a constant companion. Priesthood holders confer this ordinance as well -- my neighbor did this for me. I didn't feel any different after I had been confirmed a member of the Church. But, as I grew I learned what it meant to have the companionship of the Holy Ghost in my life. It is a feeling that comes to comfort, to warn, to teach, inspire, and testify of things that are true. But in order to feel and hear it, I had to listen. I know it is real.

I'm so grateful that my parents allowed me to make such a big choice when I was 8. I have never regretted that decision. Having the gospel of Christ has blessed me throughout my life. It has given me purpose and hope, especially through trials.

Today, my little friend Chloe was baptized. I made her this for her special day.

I attended her baptism along with her family and a few of her friends. It was a simple, but beautiful experience. As I watched her standing with her father, both dressed in white, it reminded me of my own special day. It touched my heart, and I just had to write about it.

Post Script: I have many friends and family members who are not Mormon. Sometimes I like to share my thoughts on the subject of religion because many of the people in my life don't know what Mormons believe and they are afraid to ask. I hope that this will not offend any of you, dear readers. But, I would prefer that my friends learn about Mormonism from one of its members, as opposed to someone who is not.

What They Don't Know Won't Hurt Them

My family doesn't read my blog. Ever. Unless I make them. It's probably a good thing because I really don't want to hear complaints about what I say, the pictures I take, or how lame I am when I try to be funny. In other words, I don't need family critics. I figure that they will all read when I'm dead and gone. Then they will be thrilled to have my words, and get teary-eyed when they see that I really did have their best interests at heart when I followed them around with a camera. They might even say 'Mom was so funny .... and so wise." (Mother's can have dreams, can't they?)

Last night, Matt read my Manly Man post. He said 'Why in the world would you post that awful photo of me. At the very least you could have touched it up and given me some hair!'

My response: 'Matt, I did touch it up. I removed all your wrinkles, shaved off some of your eyebrows and added hair! I just didn't want to go overboard and offend you, or make you look like someone on the cover of People magazine who's had way too much Botox."

Matt said: 'I dont want a little hair. Give me some HAIR! Thick full hair, like Elvis in his glory days!'

I'm a little disturbed that Matt has been admiring Elvis' hair. I always thought he admired the likes of Sean Connery -- bald, or that he would go for someone recent, like John Mayer. He has pretty good hair, even if he his behavior is creepy.

Well, I listened to his plea. Here you go Matt. The hair of your dreams -- straight from the King.



I think I'm going to give this to him for Father's Day -- he will appreciate the humor. I might even frame it and hang it in my family room for a spell.

Doesn't he look like he's selling Swanson TV dinners in a 1960's television commercial!

Conversations in the Car Pool: Part 2

Eden: What's an infomercial?

Crystal: It's usually an expanded commercial that demonstrates a product and has a spokesperson who raves about how you need whatever they are selling.

Eden: So basically it's a commercial.

Crystal: Yep, I guess so.

Eden: I saw this infomercial the other day about a giant stick you shove in your shoe to put it on.

Crystal: You mean a shoe horn?

Eden: Yeah, but it was giant, with a really long handle. Who would buy something like that!

Crystal: Anyone who can't bend over to put on shoes, that's who. Like an old person. Or a fat person.

Eden: (Very serious) Are you going to buy one?

Crystal: (Under my breath) I'm thinkin' about it.

Anna: You know what I hate, Crocs. My mom used to love those things. Korean moms just don't look good in those -- they look like tourist nerds.

Eden: Yeah! My mom loved them too. She had big giant green ones that she proudly wore all over the airport when we went to Florida. Hey, she was a tourist! Mom, why did you by those?

Crystal: Hey, don't make fun of Crocs! Those saved me that year we went to Florida. Don't you remember I had a back injury! And .... I bought you a pair too. You thought they were cool.

Eden: Don't you know that those Crocs are just big, foam, clogs! They look all klunky and dumb. I know a woman who wore black ones to a funeral! With socks and a dress!!! How weird is that!

Anna: Little kids look cute in them though, just not moms.

Eden: Yeah. Mom don't wear those anymore.

Crystal: Eden, is this your version of an infomercial -- trying to get me to throw away my Crocs? It's not going to work you know. Now that I know how you feel about them, I'm wearing them every time that we go to the beach. If you thought I was dumb wandering around the airport, just think about how dumb I'm going to look wandering around the sand sporting Crocs and a swim suit! Maybe I'll even wear socks!

Post Script: After numerous emails expressing concern about me wearing Crocs -- I assure you that the only time they make an appearance is when I work in the yard. And .... I don't even own a pair of socks, they bug my feet. Weird, I know.

The Bench

One of my favorite places in my house is my front entry. I love this bench. When I look at it, I don't just see a bench, I see a memory.
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It was Autumn. My kids were little -- 1 and 3. Our house was only a few months old, and void of furniture. One day Matt and I decided to take an excursion to Orange County so that we could check out an antique swap meet that we had heard rumors about. My friend Candi told me it was the place to go to find cool old stuff. I love cool old stuff with a past so off we went. According to Candi, we had to be there when the doors opened because that's when the pickings were best. So we stayed in a hotel right next door to the Swap so that we could be in line at 5:30 a.m.

It was a crisp morning. Eden and Claire were bundled up in coats riding along in a double stroller. We ate homemade doughnuts coated in cinnamon sugar we purchased from a vendor and wandered all over the place hunting for treasure -- which was abundant in the various booths that covered the asphalt. Candi wasn't lying -- it was heaven for a person like me. As we meandered through the booths, I came upon a man who made things out of old antique beds. In the corner of his stall, I spied a bench frame minus the seat. I saw possibilities and decided I had to have it. 'Matt!!' I yelled. 'This is it! We need this for our entry way!' Matt inspected the bench and remarked ' Hummmmm. I could make a seat for this .... yeah, it's pretty cool!' Matt loved it too and I assumed that Eden and Claire agreed because they climbed all over it as we haggled for a price - $100. We bought the bench and it has been living with us ever since. The bench was the first major piece of furniture we bought for our Temecula house. It's been a great place to rest our bones when we put on, and take off shoes. And for a time, it was a great spot for "time outs."

Every time we have a new visitor at our door, they say 'I like your bench! Where did you find it?' Sometimes they even ask if I would be willing to part with it, and they make an offer 'If you ever want to get rid of that thing, call me first, ok?' They use the words "old thing" to hide the fact that they know it's a treasure -- one they want for their own front entry.

Everyone loves the bench ... but not as much as me.