Planes, trains and bulldozers

I've moved!! There is so much to talk about. So many things that are different now that we aren't living right in the action in OB. Overall -- it's great. I am loving our new home. There are things I miss though. But we'll talk about those another time.

Today, I'm going to talk about a subject very dear to my nephew's heart. Industrial vehicles!! Including airplanes!

Our new neighborhood is lovely, one of the oldest in the city. My house was built in 1928, which is elderly for San Diego. Most of the other homes around it were built in the 1920s and 1930s as well. The neighborhood has charm. And airplanes. Lots of them.

Yes, the San Diego airport is almost directly east of my neighborhood, and planes take off to the west all the live long day. I have an amazing view of this spectacle from my living room, especially at night. I really think my nephew would park himself there and never leave. At least until he had to pee. Or saw what pulled up in front of the house.

Yes, let's take a look in the front yard, shall we?

Wouldja just look at the Deere? In my parking spot. Headed the wrong way.

Look how petite he makes my SUV look.

Kind of looks like my ride is going to be swallowed right up by that Deere.

And my house too. It's looks tiny behind that 310SJ!

But he's really just the baby. Look what's in front of my directly-across-the-street-neighbor's house.

Ol' Case-y.

Their neighbors have two visitors out front.

Case-y 2

And Cat. I am nominating Cat as my nephew's favorite. What a machine!

In retrospect, I'm pissed that I didn't climb up in each and every one of these monsters for a self portrait. They are all wide open. I'm sure it's against some dumb rule, but if your gonna park in front of my house, and take my parking spot, I should at least get to try 'er out, don't you think?

There's always next weekend....

Harry Corey

Remember Harry?

He's a succulent Jennie gave us for Christmas a few years ago . . .

. . . back when he was a tiny tot. A mere wisp of a little guy.

But not for long. Although Harry loved his little red pot, he outgrew it in no time, so Mistah transplanted him into a beautiful cobolt blue pot, after our friend Sugar Snap Pea plant no longer needed its services . . .

. . . and this is where Harry spends his winters, soaking up those elusive rays through the kitchen doors. The sun's reflection off those mounds of snow probably helps too.

But the minute the weather warms up? Harry takes his appointed spot on the deck . . .

. . . and is sometimes joined by friends.

Here I am with all my deck friends: Cacti, Big Cacti and Harry . . .

. . . just look at Handsome Harry back there.

He has been a constant, true and succulent friend . . .

. . . but he never stops growing, and Mr. Blue Bucket could no longer contain him.

Da-da-da-Daaa! Mistah to the rescue.

Mistah repotted him this weekend, in a greenish brownish pot Mom gave us after her plant outgrew it. Or died. Or something.

And voilà.

Harry Corey, he who was just a tiny little fella a few years ago . . .

. . . now has room to expand.

They grow up so quickly, don't they?

footnotes

I’ve gone from being hungry for books to having a full blown binge after requesting so many holds at the ‘brary. Plus I didn’t even mention the glory that is BookBub during my queue post, and that very same day I got a great deal on Falling Together (love) by Marisa de los Santos (love), and while nose deep in that one I receivied a barrage of pings from the library to inform me that there are books! books! books! available for me to pick up and/or download.  There are three books at the branch I selected: The Burning Air, The Blood of Flowers, and The Round House.  Aside: I selected this branch because there is a self serv shelf for reserves and self checkout, so I don’t have to talk to any of the guys. (we’ll address my anthrophobia and how I mock my daughter for having the same ailment some other time). Digitally, The Invisible Bridge is now available for download. To add bounty to this veritable plethora of literary riches, I had the pleasure of attending a book reading and signing by the one and only Jen Lancaster this week, and I am now the proud owner of a brand spanking new signed copy of The Tao of Martha (bonus summer reading list in that link). 

My inscription is beyond awesome. Have you read Jen Lancaster? Her memoirs are laugh out loud funny, smart, and wonderful. In most of her books, she uses footnotes liberally and hilariously. It’s my favorite. 

During the Q&A at the reading, she explained, much to my chagrin,  that there were no footnotes in this new book due to the complex relationship between e-readers and stupid people, although in defense of stupid people, it is annoying to have to change pages to find footnotes, and it ruins the flow of the narrative. Anyhoo, check out my inscription:

 She's my soul sister.

Here kitty, kitty

I think the universe is trying to tell me something.

And not in some subtle, you must call on the akashic record and the deepest recesses of your timeless soul to decipher it.

No, it's telling me via Facebook. (I know!)

You look skeptical. But it's true.

Not one, but two, yes two Facebook friends have posted photos of kittens they have rescued. This week. two this very week.

Here is the first batch. There were 5 in the litter but my friend has off loaded two of them. One female and two males remain.

Hello girl kitty!

What a handsome young sir.

These cats are actually in Los Angeles, but one (or three!)could be hand delivered on Saturday.

Next are these darker, closer-to-home kitties....

I know!

 My friend let me know that the gray and calico are the tamest; she just brought them into the house last week, and plans to take them all to a shelter by weeks' end, so they're still a bit wild.

Although I don't think this one is going anywhere right now....

Oh what to do.................My middle daughter is begging for a kitten for her birthday. Her birthday is less than a month away.

And if I do break down and get one of these...................which one?

Just Look

There was no Blondetourage, and there was no High Drama, but there was Bisque Fest, 2013 version, and it was A Time.

I mean, seriously. Just *look* at the setting . . .

. . . and *look* at all the peeps . . .

Just *look* at the raw bar . . .

. . . and *look* at the behind-the-scenes scene.

. . . *look* at the hipsters . . .

. . . *look* at the clouds . . .

Just *look* at Young Mistah Schleckah . . .

. . . *look* at our friends . . .

. . . and *look* at the boats . . .

Just *look*.

Flashback Tuesday! (yes that IS a thing)

In Today's Tuesday flashback, we revisit the merry month of June way back in the year 2008 when I chronicled the entrepreneurial spirit and sport of my two little gooberfaced baby children. These very self same children are currently speaking of high school and turning 12, the reality of which renders me breathless, brainless, and busted all out of sorts.   

Wednesday, June 4, 2008

Buyer Beware

One day last week, my boy came home from an afternoon play date with his pockets full of quarters. He explained that he and his friend had sold the fruit from her orange tree! He told me that one of the neighbors was so lucky that they happened to be selling oranges; she needed some for a recipe. She happily paid their 4-for-a-buck swindle asking price.

My boy asked if we had anything growing on trees at our house that we could sell. I reminded him about the avocado plantation on the back 40.
Later that evening, my children did this:



Here, let's take a closer look:





They left all of these explicit instructions because this was a self-service fan stand. They set it up before bed that night, expecting heavy midnight foot traffic on our cul-de-sac.

Isn't that adorable and entrepreneurial?

They left no stone unturned:

a little advertising,

a system for payment,

an attractive display,

polite gratitute...

But wait a minute, what does that sign on the bottom say?

Cynical little shits, aren't they?

After the disappointment of slow sales from the graveyard shift, they set the whole thing up again in the morning before we left for school.

As we were backing out of the driveway (carefully), my boy asked me if they had spelled everything right on the signs.

 

I pointed out the "where" instead of "we're".

He said: "Well, now people will know we really are kids."

Ya think?

Of course, they did not sell a single fan. Part of me wanted to sneak out there and put money in the bucket, just like I'd done when they had an impromtu art sale on their bedroom doors one time. But where is the lesson in that? They need to learn that if they want to earn money, they have to consider things like product quality and target markets.

Those fans are crap!

I see a lemonade stand or two in our future this summer, maybe even a garage sale.

I'm glad I did not cave on this valuable lesson.

Crap doesn't sell.

But there was that time in the mid 70s when Megan Cronin and I made perfume out of magnolia petals and sold it door to door for 2 cents a jar. Don't tell my kids, but if you get the marketing right, sometimes crap does sell! Just ask my chillow.

Polka dots

Wow, life can get so busy. I know everyone knows what I mean. Some days/weeks/months are simply bursting.

I've had one of those months. In fact, I can hardly believe that today is June 10th. But it is. The calendar says so. And so does my computer. And my phone. So it must be true.

I have so many things to blog about, but am so woefully behind that I'm going to have to take you back a bit.

But that's okay. Memorial day weekend wasn't THAT long ago, right? My birthday was Memorial day proper this year, and I'm still celebrating that event, so why not blog about that weekend here as well?

It was spent, as the last few years have been, at "the happiest place on earth." And although not every, single moment was pure joy, it was a great weekend, with lots of love and laughs. And polka dots and mouse ears...

Hotel arrival shot with Mini

Disneyland park arrival shot with Mini.

Mr Toad!

Cappi - self portrait.

No caption necessary...

Happy-go-lucky photo before we realized what the hell this crazy ride did. Holy swinging-about-crazily at amazing heights with no seat belts in a little cage!

My girl after her second visit to the park.

Departing hotel shots with Mini.

And Mickey. See you next year!

Rosie and Rosie

This is Rosie, our rose bush.

Hi Rosie!

And this is Rosie, our Rose of Sharon.

Hi Rosie!

Seriously. Our home is full of Rosies. And we love them all equally.

That's what we tell them, at least.

Rosie . . .

. . . meet Rosie.

Oh, look! New Rosie!

Welcome to the Rosie family, Rosie.