See those little people all the way down at the bottom. I know, it's hard. It's a long way down. That was once me, and then, for no good reason except a little powder, I hiked all the way up to the top of that hill. That was sweaty. Seriously.
My sister is getting bigger because she's carrying around a big little one. Her and Eric have a couple good names picked out, but they haven't settled on the final one yet. I've been offering up my creative brain in an effort to broaden the naming options. Here are just a few of the beauty's I've given them:
1. Swayyyyze
2. LaryCarl
3. Gene
4. Truck
5. Jamison
You know you like option number four.
So what was President's Day 2009 like for you? I can tell you what it was like to Michelle and I. It was 20 inches of fresh powder on a Lake Tahoe ski resort named Squaw. It was Michelle and I crushing the powder, hitting every black diamond in site. It sounded like WHACK! I turn around and Michelle hasn’t just crushed the powder, she’s tried to crush a tree too. Hitting it and being flipped around. I’m worried. She’s laughing. Not a big deal. We just continue loving the snow. Later on we head back down the mountain, towards Sacramento, and run into a slowing, no, stopping of the I80. We sit on the road for an hour, listening to music in our car and playing with our iPhones, no movement, until the authorities clear the crashed cars off the icy blacktop below. Presidents Day 2009 was visit to Napa for us. It tasted like a beautiful Cabernet and a whole host of wonderful wines. We brought some home. We’ll share them, or maybe just share them with each other. Come visit before they are gone. President’s Day 2009 was fun. Just fun.
Click here to see all the pictures from our weekend excursion.
Yep, that's an El Camino...with two beer taps. I saw it outside of the Belgian beer bar, The Trappist, in Oakland. Kind of awesome, don't you think.
Elijah always wanted a Subaru Super Brat, jacked up off the ground with bucket seats in the back. I wonder if this would suffice. At any rate, it's got to be getting close.
We have a beautiful old, massive movie theater about a block from our house. It reminds me a lot of the Hollywood Theater in Portland. They play a whole host of mainstream and sometimes indie movies. They have a church service in the theater on Sunday too. And, they have strong political views that they're not afraid to share.
The sign reads: Good riddance to George W. Bush. The Worst "President" in American history! The world is better off without him!
That's the way the Grand Lake Theater rolls.
Note to self; do not buy a Scotch Pine for the Christmas tree, unless I want a petrified, dried out, fire hazard sitting in my living room.
As many of you know, we live four floors up, and there is no elevator. What that means is, we have to carry everything up four flights of stairs (without the assistance of an elevator). This can be healthy for our hearts and our lungs, but when you have to take a 6-foot porcupine like tree that instantly sheds deathly sharp barbed needles everywhere it goes, walking through a common residence area is a bad idea… unless you’re looking to mulch the carpet with tree syringes. So what to do? Throwing the tree off the balcony was briefly considered, but we were seriously worried that this Scotch Pine would explode into a million little pieces. The neighbors probably wouldn’t appreciate that. So we decided to lower the tree some 80-feet off the balcony to the waiting concrete below. No worries about weight, this tree was so dried out that it felt like it could be a kite. I was just glad that we didn’t have any big gust of wind while we were dropping it off of our roof. And that no one was impaled by our brillow brush of a Christmas tree while we lowered it to the ground. That tree sucked. But Christmas was awesome. I think we’ll keep Christmas, but no more Scotch Pine Holiday trees for us.
This is what happens when you go to Disneyland with your cousin. You have fun. Lots and lots of fun.
In search of fall. The season. I miss it. And so Michelle and I went out to Napa on a quest to find fall in all of its beautiful glory. We found it on a Sunday bike ride in wine country, along with a bottle of Cabernet and a bottle of Grenache and a Wine Club membership at Elizabeth Spencer. Success. How tasty.
This is America. Twenty friends in a small room, all stakeholders, all emotionally involved, all helping change the world. CNN calls Pennsylvania for Obama. This is America. We have votes. We have dreams. We have a vested interest. We have our future children to think about. CNN calls New York for Obama. And we want the world to know, we’re the heart of this country. The powerful spirit of the what’s to come. Healthy and beating stronger than ever. We’re speaking up. We’re telling the world to forget the perceptions, because we’re shaping a new reality. I wonder what dungeon or drink or substance or channel Bill O’Rielly is drowning in tonight? This is the new America. Which is built on the old America. The bill of rights. The constitution. The fact, that we again hold these truths to be self evident, that all men and woman are created equal. The polls are closing in 15 states in 1 minute. In this America everything and anything is possible, even the American dream. For a while it looked like that dream was dying a quiet and spectacular death. Just ask the rest of the world. CNN calls Ohio for Obama. Let’s assume that McCain wins every single state left except Indiana, Washington, Oregon, and California. He still won’t have enough Electoral College votes to win. I just can’t imagine a scenario where McCain wins enough of the remaining four states to take the presidency. So we watch and hope and smile and laugh and celebrate and listen as our voices roar through our small living room and around the entire world. CNN calls the 44 presidential race for Barack Obama. This is our America. Champagne for everyone. Tonight, it feels amazing to be an American.
