The proper way to spend a mid-November birthday evening.
Today I am 33. (It’s still early-30s, so we’re keeping it real with the years.)
Jon’s been there almost a year already. Search and Destroy are both 3.
Tag Archives: wine
The Last Summer on Earth with Barenaked Ladies
Music takes me places. And I have a history of taking myself to the places where Barenaked Ladies are performing.
I’ve seen them eight times. But I am not a groupie. “Groupies sleep with rockstars because they want to be near someone famous. We are here because of the music, we inspire the music.” (Just call me Penny Lane.) Continue reading
Winecone Wednesday – Measure Twice Cut Once Edition
Fear not. I didn’t forget this week. But I was preoccupied with the furniture.
I’m doing this writer thing now. So I decided it was time for a new office setup. A nice cozy writers enclave to craft my well told stories (and throw winecones). Pottery Barn desk I’ve coveted for 10 years – thou art mine!
Except, well, I didn’t measure the dimensions correctly. So while I got everything all set up (and it TOTALLY looks adorable), it didn’t really go together with the ease I had imagined, which then led to having to redo the husband’s section of the office. Continue reading
Winecone Wednesday – Mustang GT Edition
There was a blue mustang convertible parked in front of my house on Friday morning. And I was headed to wine country.
There is truly something to be said for flying down the highway under the hot summer sun. Mustang convertible, top down, 85 degrees outside and Foo Fighters Everlong playing on the radio. It kind of feels like freedom and fun. Continue reading
A Wild Wine Country Weekend
The group text read, “I just want to let you all know how special you really are…I shaved my legs for you guys. My husband’s pretty jealous.”
Did you miss me this weekend? Some of the mama’s made an escape to wine country. Sans kiddos. Continue reading
There’s Gotta Be A Way
Someway, somehow – when I wasn’t looking – my tiny babies got big.
And during that time the debate between being a stay-at-home-mom vs. working mother raged on. I am a working mother and I make no apologies for that. The Mrs. Cleaver ideal still persists: the perfect mother, waiting at home with a plate of homemade cookies and tall cool glass of bottled milk. Continue reading