Thanksgiving and Such

The last week has been a blur encompassed in a haze. It could be that I've eaten more turkey this year than the last 5 years combined thanks to Tim and his Yearly Opus.  (I'm convinced that the secret ingredient to everything that man makes on Thanksgiving is crack.) That plus my brothers and parents came from their respective corners of Wyoming for some good 'ole Portlandia fun.

Cliffnotes and Outtakes:

If you ever come to the fair city of Portland, you'll be required to go to Voodoo Doughnut at least once. Even if you don't particularly like doughnuts, you will be dragged there, I guarantee it. Think of it as a rite of passage.

There was a game of glow-in-the-dark golf in which my father made a hole in one that put Tiger Woods to shame. I wish I had more photos of the event. There was also a game of Life that seemed to baffle everyone. Oh, the irony.

Then there was the crack-laden feast (I'm on to you, Tim) and much needed naps:

My cup overfloweth with love and laughter...and I am grateful.

Toil and Trouble

Halloween's sort of a big deal 'round these parts. From my point of view it's arguably the single most ridiculously awesome day out of the entire year. For one sweet night, cheerleaders and aliens agree that, indeed, this Halloween gig is pretty friggin' great and they get along like ebony and ivory....

......And suddenly, I transform into the Martha Stewart of the Macabre......

....Plus, if you're at the right place at the right time, you might catch Hubby Tim dressed up like Evil Knievel. On a moped. Driving up and down the streets of Portland, in order to (ahem) Bring happiness to the people.  No, (*sigh) I'm not making this up....

So yes, we do it up big. Parties, family, friends, costumes, frights....the works. Oh, and it just so happens that it's also the anniversary of the day that 'That Guy that Follows Me Around' officially talked me into letting him become 'Hubby Tim'. So we throw in a little extra 'umph' for that too. Go big or go home. That's how we like to look at Halloween.

This year, Tim's sister and her family joined us from Wisconsin and brought their own brand of fun to the mix....Toil and trouble about sums up the whole weekend.

What Doesn't Kill Ya

According to Sydney, we spend an inordinate amount of time looking for, and glean an annoying amount of enjoyment from, torturing her. By her measure, we have cruelly devised the misery inducing 'Clean Your Room Technique', the anguish triggering 'Pick Up the Basement Method' and the foot stomp/door slam evoking, 'Your Skirt's Too Short, Go Change Approach' (Just to name a few).

Much to her dismay, we have unveiled the newest in the line of torture, which we lovingly call the 'Volunteer of Your Time Scheme' and that pairs nicely with the 'No Sleeping In Technique.' This double punch has caused violent fits of eye-rolling, loud and persistent protesting and even a playing of the But I Have Homework! card.

As for Alex, we can currently get him to do just about anything by hinting that we have the power to make sure he's a dancing chicken in the upcoming ballet this year. Man, he loves volunteering!


Mwahhhhaaahaaaaa! Sydney's right. This parental torture thing is fun.

 Smilin' on the Inside

Not a dancing chicken

Stalking of the Goonies House

First things first: I'm in love with Astoria, Oregon. It has a mysterious feel that I'm a complete sucker for, it's on the coast, it's swarming with craftsman houses which I drool over,  it has an arty and interesting downtown district and you hear sea lions barking as readily as you hear the seagulls. It's hard not to be charmed by this place.
Of course, Astoria has the added draw that Goonies was filmed there: a film that made me dream of living in Oregon when I was growing up and a film that my own kids adore. We couldn't pass up an opportunity to sniff this place out and act like giddy starstruck tourists out front...

Goonies never say die!

From the Oregon Coast, With Love

As the summer heat and crowded beaches are giving way to warm evening light,long shadows and stretches of endless people-less coastline, we took our yearly autumn trip to the coast. Have I mentioned recently how much I love Oregon?

Doin' the Happy Dance

It's September and you know what that means..... SCHOOL TIME! (I'll try not to come across as being too giddy.)
Don't get me wrong, I'd happily take a bullet in the arse for my kids while simultaneously being hit by a bus. Truly, I'd do it. The bus, the bullet, hell, throw in being chased by an alligator for good measure...I'd do it allllll with a smile on my face....
....But, I swear to God, if I had to listen to my darling children walk around the house bickering with each other for one. more. day...well, the above ridiculous scenario was lookin' better and better.

 So, here's to another school year and the maintenance of sanity!

Look What the Cat Dragged In

So, we've got this cat. And like most cats, she doesn't think of herself as a cat, but has crowned herself  'Queen of The House.' Besides milk for breakfast every morning, the Queen has strict rules for her subjects:

1. Only touch her when invited to do so. Failing to follow this rule can look a little something like this:

No Caption Needed.

2. Her majesty expects full and complete attention when any one of her minions is sitting on the toilet. This rule is strictly enforced and if not adhered to can look a lot like the photo above.

3. Appreciate and fawn over every gift her highness bestows upon her lowly subjects. If not...well, you get the picture.

The Queen of the House runs a tight ship around here. I can live with rule number one, mostly because I find her a tad bit mangy and I kind of get grossed out touching her (it's best not to mention this one to her).  Rule number two I find odd and disturbing but I work around it. Buuuuut, when it comes to rule number three, the queen and I have some, shall we say, issues.

Listen, I'm sure that there are people in the world who don't mind sliding through a mouse carcass in bare feet first thing in the morning. I'm sure that there are people who find it quaint to be sitting in their living room, enjoying some peace and quiet and a nice cup of tea only to be dive-bombed repeatedly by a crazed kamikaze bird (insert scenes from The Birds here) who had, only moments before, been playing dead in the jaws of her highness and looking for the perfect moment to flee. And I'm sure that there are people who looooove opening the door to a snake laying on the front porch.

Let me be clear: I am not one of those people. 

I have been known to violate rules number 1 and 3 in one fail swoop, throwing her majesty out of the house and tossing some four letter words out the door with her. Let's just say, that I'm not always a fan of her gifts and she's not a fan of my attitude.

Given our history, imagine my surprise to open the door to find this:

 A little peace offering! A happy medium! Or maybe I planted a little too much catnip in pots in the backyard.