Strap on those bags and get to work!

Scott decided today that we didn't have enough to do at home. So we went up to help out Bill and Chad and the boys on their project up in Northwoods. It was exhausting - but very fun. Except the part where I had to use the Sawzall. And maybe when the grinder got away from me and tried to take my leg off. But other than that, a great (and productive!) day was had by all.

..for those embarrassing moments.

Most commonly asked question at our dinner party last night:

"Why do you keep tongs in your bathroom?"

Well...

Life is not fair.

Why does Scott have the shapeliest ankles in our family? Harumph.

Why I Love My Husband

Reason #143: Such a good sport.

Smell My Feet

Thanks Grandma Beth for keeping us in the height of footwear fashion. (Hopkins, though not participating in the socky goodness, is fond of showing off his new winter snow-pants-furry-butt.)

Baby steps, Bob - baby steps.

Since you haven't seen any home improvement updates in approximately two years, you may be thinking to yourself, "Self," you might say, "Those darn clever kids must have finished that house."

Boy, would you be wrong.

Our bathroom no longer looks like a WonderBoard dungeon, mostly:


There was a frightening moment where we thought that we had ruined our ridiculously expensive natural stone tile with the dark brown grout. We did the necessary sealing and re-sealing prior to grouting, but immediately post-grouting our "natural variations in stone color" had become mostly "dark brown grout color". They have, with much scrubbing and cursing, returned to their naturally varying state.

This did, however, require Scott to spend the better part of two days in this position (which - needless to say - has left all of his various bits and pieces grumbly and unpleasant to be around):


He does have an awfully cute little bum, though, sore or not.

Pushover, etc.

We're doing everything we can to teach Hopkins not to jump on people (including us) when he's excited and wants attention. He jumps, puts his paws on your chest, wiggles his butt, looks longingly in to your eyes ... sure, it's all very cute, but someone like, say, my Grandma Marg might not be so enthusiastic about his enthusiasm. So we correct him, tell him to sit quietly next to us, and shower him with affection.

So he jumps up, and I look sternly and say, "Hopkins. What are you supposed to do when you want love?"

And he jumps off and runs to Scott.

I see how it is.

Brace Face

What kind of parent signs you up to get braces on Picture Day?

The evil kind, apparently.

Why I Love My Husband

Reason #76: The Cleverness.

Just a little creepiness to start the day

Me: "Did you know you're the best thing that ever happened to me?"
Scott: "Lady, as far as I'm concerned, I'm the ONLY thing that ever happened to you."
Me: "Yeah, but... I was born. I grew up."
Scott: "Not without me around."

Twilight Prince...ss?

Me: "They keep calling me Mister Kate."
Scott: "Who is 'they'?"
Me: "The people in town."
Scott: "Why are they calling you Mr. Kate?"
Me: "Because I had my shirt off earlier, and ... apparently I'm a man."
Scott: "Is there something you aren't telling me?"
Me: "I spent all afternoon playing Legend of Zelda."

Raw Nerve

It's been a rough week. Erin and I are trying to get back in the swing of school and homework and responsibilities, she had braces installed on Thursday, I have PMS, the weather is unpredictable, the dog smells like fish oil, and Scott has had evil noxious gas for a week running. I thought to myself, "Self," I thought, "You should do something special for dinner tonight."

So I went to the bookstore and picked out a cookbook for something special. Something that Erin and I both love (not Scott, but really, he can suck it up). Something that takes time and love and artistic intuition. Something raw and spicy.

Then, of course, because it's necessary to do these things right, I had to buy a fancy (read: sharp) new knife. (A certain Nepali who shall remain unnamed used my 8" Santoru as a cleaver and knocked giant chunks out of the previous fancy sharp knife. I also bought a cleaver so that won't happen again.) Also, a bamboo rolling mat. Some new chopsticks. Some soy dipping trays. And a few grocery bags full of weird veggies, fish parts, dried fish parts, pureed fish parts, and seaweed.

I babysat the rice. (No one thought to mention to me that sushi rice takes TWO HOURS TO COOK PROPERLY? THAT'S INSANE.) I boiled fish flakes and shiitake mushrooms in sweet cooking vinegar. I carved cucumbers into exactly equal spears. I peeled avocados. I sliced and diced and steamed and mixed and squeezed and boiled and stirred and dipped and rolled and garnished and arranged and rearranged and arranged again. I was awfully proud. It was awfully pretty.



And Erin? ... spent the night at a friend's house.

Mmm, dal bhat.

Krishna whipped us up another Nepali feast yesterday. I was temporarily assigned Assistant Chef duties, until Krishna actually witnessed how I chopped his vegetables. Then I was promptly laid off. Damn this economy.

Chipper!

Hopkins's brother Chipper came over to play yesterday. They haven't been together since they were five weeks old, but it seemed like they hadn't missed a day. They played for HOURS, while Chipper's buddy Lola stood guard and made sure the boys didn't get too rowdy.

I tried to get a picture of the two of them together - but they're all blurry with the frantic jumping and panting and teeth. Hopkins is bigger, all around - longer, leggier, taller; but Chipper is waaaaaay fluffier. Also, eyebrows. It makes up for a lot.

ScottArt

Scott was waxing creative yesterday with light. And, yes, we all agree: lovely.