too much

We are dogsitting this week. Last night, as is customary lately, I got up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, which is where the dog sleeps. I don't like to turn the light on because I don't want her to think it's morning already, but I noticed it smelled like she was letting off some gas. Turns out she let out more than gas because my toe brushed against her poo pile. Wonderful. (Don't worry, I sanitized the foot.)

I forgave her of her poo misdeed and after work took her on a walk. She was trying to chase a squirrel down a pathway towards a nearby park when I heard a large rustling in the trees above, and then something hit me. I thought a squirrel threw some leaves or something, but it turns out a large bird had unloaded their poo and pee supply for the year (seemingly) down the arm of my pink "private club" jacket. Before I realized it, I got some on my hand. Holding the dog's leash is really a two hand matter because the little thing can drag me all over the place, so my non-poop hand was formed into a painful claw by the time I got home.

I should not be experiencing this much poop in a 24 hour span. Like my lack of sleep, is this a subconscious way to prepare me for motherhood?

Flotsam and Jetsam

Welcome to my personal hell. I somehow need to attach doodads in various ways to these blocks in hope that the women in my church will want to make this craft. I've been staring at these mod-podged blocks for two days now and the inspiration is nonexistent. There will be other holidays to choose from, and I feel like I am going to be the one with an empty table on craft night. It's going to remind me too much of my high school lunch hour.

It kind of looks like a shoebox

Jon has been wanting a record player so badly. We've looked on Amazon, ebay, and Craigslist to find a cost-appropriate option (I preferred one with a small footprint). I tend to give up after a while, but this kid is persistent. On the way back from the coast he tracked one down outside of Portland, and we stopped by with a record to test it. All I have to say is, thank goodness for hoarders. We've met several interesting people from Craigslist adventures; Bob who sold us the tivo who had 3 crazy recliners instead of a couch and his genius daughter's typewriter-piano instrument invention mounted on the wall, and a giant of a woman with her GIANT Big-Dawg wearing son who bought our enormous overstuffed leather chair (match made in heaven, that one). This most recent woman had a house that lives in my mother's nightmares--it was overflowing with cluttery, dingy, kind of weird smelling stuff. But she had a huge flat screen TV. $10 and a clorox wipe (or two) later, the next Sunday morning was filled with the sound of vintage Mormon Tabernacle Choir tunes.

 

 

impromptu mid-week getaway

Including: Storms, wind, a fireplace, ocean, meh chowder at Mo's. (& too many jelly bellies!) Ignored my cell phone. Not that anyone called.

Of note: Valentine's weekend made me the ecstatic new owner of two coral-colored (!) latte bowls. Pink and I may not be great friends, but me and coral are BFFs.

Nesting for beginners

Step 1: Buy a crib.
Step 2: Crib is delivered to front door (Wednesday).
Step 3: Leave crib outside until Jon comes home because it is about 5 million pounds.
Step 4: Help Jon bring the crib inside.
Step 5: Go eat dinner.
Step 6: Live your life normally around a 150 pound box in your entryway.

In more successful nesting news, I finally finished the hand quilting on the baby quilt I started a year ago.

When excitement leads to tears

My twin sister Mackenzie is super talented. Her magnets are featured in this month's Crochet Today!, one of the most highest regarded crochet magazines (I didn't have to tell you that, of course). In celebration, she is having a giveaway on her blog to win some of these great magnets, which have super powers to never come unstuck from the fridge/magnet board placed thereon.

The magnets you can win!

Unless. I wanted to take a picture to post of my special "face" magnets, which were hand embroidered with the likeness of Jon and my face (Tyler deserves some credit here). They are amazing. I love them. And then I could not find my face. And then I remembered an unfortunate incident where I was throwing around a deflated kick ball with Mia, the dog I watch occasionally, and how I have a small apartment, and how I threw the ball into my magnet board, causing a small explosion. I must have knocked off my face magnet. The explosion of stuff caused our trash can to pop open... and I think you can deduce the rest. Needless to say I'm a little (a lot) depressed. And in need of a new face magnet.

Jon's face magnet. The detail! The mustache! I also need a baby face magnet. With a baby mustache.

But check out Kenz's blog and try to win some magnets of your own! If she's anything like me (and she is, obviously) each new comment is like a tiny slice of joy. Served on a tiny plate, with a tiny fork. (but that may be just me)