Gender results

Results are in!  Baby did cooperate for the ultrasound, which means the inside of the cake pops was not yellow or green.

(It also means that I went out shopping for clothes!  And found some really cute outfits, it was so hard to just choose one...well, technically, I got two, because there was a buy one get one half off sale.  I struggled not to buy another three outfits.)

Cake pops have been dispersed.  Well, most of them were.  The Russian ate a lot of them before they could be given away.  Every time I turned around, there would be another two (or 5) empty sticks creating a pile on the counter.

I've heard back from those who received cake pops in the mail, so it's now time for the moment of truth.  If you don't know, make your guess now before you scroll down...

It's a girl!

(And I found the cutest little blue outfit with monkeys - perfect - that I wanted to buy!  But it said "Auntie's Favorite," so  I couldn't buy it.  It also happens to be the only blue girls' outfit that I've seen!)

Ever had a stomach massage?

Massage chairs.  Wonderful, luxurious massages.  I think I may have to get me one.  Arguably my favorite part of shopping at Bed Bath and Beyond is taking a break in the demo chairs.  Thankfully, I had a few minutes to spare while waiting for the Russian and settled into a chair.

About 30 seconds into my massage, I had the strange sensation of an echoing feeling in my stomach.  At first, I startle.  Then laugh.  Apparently baby likes the sensation and decided to extend it to my abdomen.  I'll take it (although it is really odd to feel pulses on both sides of my body).

The Russian returns and we try out all the demo chairs.  (Gotta know which one is the best in case one of the chairs is on a great sale or it's shortly deemed necessary.)

"Must be a girl," is the response from the Russian after hearing what happened.  Of course it is, if she likes massages.

Too bad we don't know yet.  Hopefully that's coming soon. (Very soon.)

Autumn

Image courtesy of Dan / Freedigitalphotos.net

You have to love the fall...

The scarves...

The shoes...

The cute jackets...

The soup...

The flowers...

The fog...

(Well, maybe it's just me who loves the fog.)

But I'm ready for it to get here already.  C'mon, crisp, cool weather.  I can't wait for the brisk mornings kissing my cheeks as I clutch a warm coffee in my hand.  Of course, the sun is always shining (after morning fog slowly burns off) in my oh-so-realistic imagination that paints my fall.  And, of course, I never get tired of hearty soups and potlucks in my head.

Berries!

Blackberries are coming....

So are blueberries....

Aren't they pretty?

Too bad the birds got to almost all of the raspberries.  (I managed to pick two before they were gone.)

Nostalgia

My radio just started an old Backstreet Boys song. At first it hits me as goofy, but my laziness to flip through the song has me sitting here listening to how these five men will never break my heart.

But then it hits me: the last time I listened to this song, I was belting it out at the top of my lungs in the car. I was in high school.

I used to listen to the BSB with my best friend in the world. Unfortunately, life has pulled us apart, though we still talk. It's been ages since we sat around talking for hours let alone lived in the same city.

At that time, we were young girls who obsessed about boy bands. We were in denial we were growing up. Concepts like careers and our own children were foreign to our reality, although it never was far from our dreaming minds.

This song, no matter how cheesy, reminds me of fun times with my best friend. I've never been that close with any other person and miss her greatly.

(I guess we're just going to have to move to the same city.)

The Spider Murderer (part 2)

There I was sitting on the patio, minding my own business.  My head bobbing slightly to the tune drifting from my phone, perhaps a few notes absently escaping through my mouth.  Wielding a paintbrush in my hand, I was turning my mini pencils blue (because obviously, they needed it*).

The sun is shining, the slight breeze doesn't disturb my painting.  Things are going along nicely.  But then - then I am interrupted.

You know those nasty garden spiders?  The black ones with white stripes?  The ones that look like they crawled out of a pit deep within the earth and move like a wolf on steroids with their shady scurry.  (Alright, so I think all spiders look like they struggled their way out of the depths of hell, but these ones are particularly evil looking.)

See?

Upon googling, I find out it's called a jumping spider.  Are you kidding me?  These things jump as well?

Anyway, back to my story.  Here I am, happy as can be, until I notice my new "friend."  Uhm, please go away.  I am outside, I realize I'm in your space.  But I'm busy.  My hands are full.  And you touching me, well, that's not acceptable.

But he does not heed my warning, and he's a fast little sucker.  I roll a container of paint at him.  He stands there (watching me with those bulbous eyes).  I toss the hose toward him...he darts to the left a little.  Finally, I put down my paintbrush and pencil #37 of 60.  I grab the watering can, since it's close.  How about a little swim?  That gets him moving some, but eventually he just starts walking on top of the water.

Seriously?

He's still not moving away from me.  Somehow he's still heading my direction.  I content myself with turning my front toward him so he's not walking out of eyesight behind me.  I watch him ease up the hose and fall off when it crosses over itself.

He assumes the aggravated "I will bite you" stance I recognize from the wolf spiders of the jungle.  This guy has about 10 more seconds to live.  We sit there, eyes locked on one another, for a full 30 seconds, until he lowers his front legs and turns to the side a bit.

I watch him scurry into the garden.  That's where he can stay...or so help me that little guy is a goner.

*It is all about the details...or so I keep being told.  I can't handle plain yellow pencils now, can I?**

**Alright, maybe it's just that I'm a bit anal.

How you know you've trained a man (part 2)

(Almost) breakfast in bed.

Rub those bleary eyes open, stretch a little, and realize you smell food.

Within minutes, someone crouches next to you: "Please come eat."

As I write this, the dishes are being washed. It's going to be a good day.

What do you mean locked out?

This past weekend, the fiancé and I decided to take a drive out into the glorious world beyond the living room.  This involved a variety of establishments, some for refreshments, some for specific items (I'm working on new cake pops again), and some just to see what's out there.

Among my treasures is a new concise Russian grammar book.  Hah.  I'm digging myself in deeper and deeper here.  добро пожаловать!  ('dabro pazhalavat' for those who can't read Russian)  Welcome to my world.  The beauty of this language eludes me...maybe it's all the consonants involved, which make it explode from the mouth in harsh jumbles.


But that's not the point.


After a lovely day out meandering, we returned to the house.  Only then did we find out that the typically perfectly functioning system that syncs up the fiancé's fancy car with the garage door was not working.


Uhm.  This is a problem.


Specifically, being overly paranoid about safety, the fiancé locks the storm door as well as the front door.  They require different keys.  We're lacking one of them on our key rings.  You're already thinking no problem, just go around back.


Ah, but if only it were that simple.


Did I mention the fiancé is overly paranoid about safety?  The gates into the backyard are padlocked.  So, this is what ensues:

Climbing over a couple gates, finding a door that matches the key on our keyring, entering through said door, and then opening the garage to the let the other person in. I think we need to re-think the key situation we have going on at the house.

Nights in the rainforest

A sunny day as I enter the Amazon basin

It is commonly accepted that the white noise of nature is soothing and helps one relax.  Many people in the world use nature sounds to lull them to sleep every night.

I decided to join their prestigious ranks.

This decision was mainly based upon the fact I like to listen to music to fall asleep.  However, it could possibly be said that the music that appeals to me on certain nights does not lead to restful sleep.

My solution:  Rainforest sounds.

Perfect, right?  I mean, the rainforest is my favorite place on earth (somebody should tell the fiancé before it's too late and I make him move there).  There's nothing like laying there and hearing the rainforest swelling around you, enveloping you in it's humid grasp.

So, what did I do?  I downloaded several rainforest tracks and when it came time to place my head down on feathers and let sleep claim me, I was ready.  The unmistakable rise and fall of the oropendola's call flutters to my ears and assaults me with memories of the impossible task of trying to sleep early mornings with oropendolas nesting right next to the camp.   The burping call of another feathered friend reminds me of pensive moments along the riverbank.  The intermittent rain reminds me of the sudden storms while out on multi hour treks and how we used gigantic banana leaves as makeshift umbrellas.  The soft humming of the huatzin's four stomachs reminds me of how their mismatched oddities came to be familiar with each trip to the lagoon. The cadence of various birds shifting across the background dredges up memories of early morning bird tours in tiny dug out canoes, as well as afternoons sitting at camp watching the Indigenas playing soccer.

I miss the jungle - the sights, the sounds, the smells of it.

The night track brings me back to every night I lay on my mattress, enshrouded in my mosquito net that didn't always quite keep the bugs out if the door wasn't zipped completely closed at all times.  I remember wolf spiders in the showers, cicadas of surprising size that paid a visit to our evening candlelit cuarenta games.  A bewildered marsupial who waddled into our haphazard kitchen one evening, and on another, our surprise visit from a nocturnal monkey.  There were times where I just sat and looked at the stars in the night sky.*

Night falling in la laguna after fishing, a swim, and bird watching.
After dark, we search for caiman.

Memory after memory came back to me as I lay on my bed:  The snooty German who insisted on leaving after the first intolerable night filled with insect noises.  The friendly Germans who used me as a translator when our guide spoke no English.  The American couple on their honeymoon.  The Ecuadorian couple who were newly dating.  The one man who snored so loudly no one slept at night.  Walking through the swamp and misstepping into water up to my knee.  Searching for anacondas to no avail.  Waiting for various bugs to crawl off of me (most notably the wolf spider, but there was a conga ant on a trip before that - they have a nasty bite).  Catching a blue and orange fish on accident.  Grating yucca.  Letting bright blue butterflies land in my hair.  Spotting a double rainbow twice in the same day.

Things on the verge of being forgotten seeped their way to the forefront.  This, perhaps, isn't a good way to sleep.  I have a rather active imagination and what used to be a good memory before grad school.  Laying in a dark room listening to sounds from my past transports me back to every moment I spent there.

On one hand, it makes me homesick.  But...it does bring a smile to my face.

What is not happening at night is sleep.  My mind awakens with memories of the mysterious swirling through the dark.  If I want to sleep, I might have to switch to ocean waves...or maybe just rain.

*I've done it with binoculars on several occasions.  Ever tried?  What we perceive as merely dark sky isn't, when you look through binoculars.  Instead of being covered by a blanket of stars, we are at the bottom of a million-mile-high pile of them.  It's breathtaking.

Fog

Source: flickr.com via michelle on Pinterest

I don't know what it is, but fog makes me happy.

I realize it makes 99% of people upset, annoyed, frustrated (you name it).

But I enjoy it.

Fog blankets the earth in it's dense grasp, offering serenity in it's fingertips.  Today, as I drove to work, my world was pure gold.  When I clicked off my radio, the day was silent, as if on the verge of a new rhythm.  Beyond the cars alongside me, the world was calm.

I didn't see cars flying down the side streets.  No traffic lights blinked at me.  I didn't see people running toward various destinations.  No bright signs flashed at me.

It was just calm.

Of course, foggy days make me think of this song.  Don't get me wrong - it's a beautiful, upbeat song, and it mentions fog...but, well, the title is "Perdidos en la noche" aka "Lost in the Night".  So, obviously, waaay off.  But, well, it's Diego Torres, and he's happy and upbeat and every foggy day, I think of bruma and this.

Car sale strategies

Photo courtesy of The Torque Report

The navigation system in the fiancé's car recently took a turn for the worse.  While we were nursing it back to health (alright, having aspects of it replaced), we decided that it was time for us to look to upgrading my car.  We had time to kill, were interested in the differences between the TSX and the TL, and the fiancé is bound and determined to get me into a new car.

I'm not sure why, but he's convinced the current car is a piece of junk.  It's a "piece of junk" that has lasted me 8 years and 90,000 (of my own) miles, with no baggage to drag me down into the pits of despair.  Even now, my Intrigue is nowhere near it's last leg and continually meets my high travel demands.  True, two of the windows don't open, but that's superficial when you get down to it.

My car still loves me.

However, I am now being seduced by the Acura family that my fiancé is introducing me to.  Hello navigation system.  How are you doing back up cam?  Hold me close, self-heating seats.  I can't find anything I don't like about these cars, and apparently consumer reports agree.

But.

But.  That's the key.  I have no intention of buying a car from someone who annoys me*.  Those cars are not cheap.  You want to comment on how the Russian fiancé has a Ukrainian accent?  We just think you're stupid.  Continue by feeding us inaccurate historical tidbits?  Sorry, I watch the History channel, too, and you got it wrong.  Tell me that my surname is Scandinavian and then get pissy when I say, yeah, Danish...you should probably know that Swedes and  Danes historically haven't gotten along before you keep lumping us together.  Also, lecturing me on my antecedents isn't too keen, either, as that is an area I unequivocally do know more than you.  Plus, really, every story you begin about your family as a ring of untruth to it...so maybe you don't want to keep going.

Now, getting back to actually buying a car...talk to us about it, explain it's features, give us a test drive**.  Don't assume that just because I just graduated college (with a masters degree, not a bachelor's like you keep spouting)  I am unable to afford a car.  Then, if you've spent the past hour basically lying to us, we don't feel inclined to believe you when you talk about pricing and how fantastic this car truly is.  Or the fact that the following morning you're pleading with us to buy it at what was the out the door price.

Thank you, but you're the perfect example as to why we are not buying a car from you...no matter the price.  Plus, "I'm not pressuring you" when we say for the nth time that we're not interested in buying a car today does not mean "sign on the dotted line."

*Establishing rapport comes from trust and communication - not from alienating those you are talking to.  Maybe you should build on the fact your wife works with autistic children and so do I, or your daughter is getting married two weeks before we are...not jokes that fall flat, like the "Finnish curse" (a flat butt).

**FYI:  Pretending that only men can unlock the new special door is extremely sexist, especially when I'm the one looking for the car.  Hand me the key and shut your mouth.  I know how "keyless" cars work.

Freezing fog

Freezing fog makes beautiful ice crystals, as well as gorgeous scenery. It does, however, numb your hands in the 10 seconds required to take a picture.

Where am I?

With it still being dark at six in the morning when I return from the gym, the world seems different.

Take this morning, for example.  The moon is behind clouds and there's not a star in the sky.  My yard seems dark, being that the porch lights are dim.  It's not too late in the year for the sprinklers to be running, though.

I walk up to the door, and it's mostly quiet...but the sprinklers are going in the garden pressed against the porch.  The garden features fat, red blossoms and large, dark green leaves.  It's dark.  It smells like water.  I see plants and tropical flowers.  I hear water.

For a split second I feel like I'm in the rain forest.

Okay, maybe my imagination is too quick at inventing new adventures.  (It takes about 0.00000001 second before it's veering off in a new direction.)  But I had the weird feeling I was there.  Perhaps the jungle is calling me back.  Maybe it's my longing to go to the rain forest again... to see the monkeys, walk for hours among millions of trees, catch a piranha or two...

Maybe I'd even see a pink dolphin again.  They only live in the Amazon, you know.  Or perhaps I could encounter another anaconda sunning himself in a tree.

Close, but not too close, to a lovely little big friend

I quickly shook off the moment and stepped through the door.  I know I'm not near any tropical forests.  I just want to go back.  (Who's with me?)

Rainy days

It's rainy today.

It makes me crave soup.  And tea.  And a good book to curl up with on my bed.  Or in the chair downstairs where I can watch the rain splash down.

Rain can make the world a happier place.  I know that traditionally rain is thought to be depressing, due to dark clouds and heavy downpour, but it's comforting at the same time.  It's familiar.  It's enduring.  Rain always comes, always goes.  It nourishes the earth and the plants that bring me my delicious food.  (Yay for comfort food!)  It trudges along with it a feeling of peace, of sameness.

Hearing the rain brings back memories of so many other days inside listening to the rain beat down as it bears witness to the mundane.  Yet the memories bring the mundane to life again, and give it a spark, an unending "this is life" feeling.

What do you think?  Does it make you happy or depressed to hear the rain on the window?

Take a seat...

Just for a moment.

Learning something new

The sun is outside to play, clouds are sulking around the corner, and the day sparkles with adventure.  Brilliant blue beckons at the soul to come out and play.

After a late, lazy morning, filled with huckleberries and pancakes, one can only hope to partake in the something new that twinkles on the horizon.  The air is warm and softly teases pink cheeks as the sun laughs down.

It's a lovely day to be alive, to breathe in the scent of pine as you manage yard work.  Today is warmer than the past few, more lively, and happy to see you.  Fall is on it's way, but summer has yet to bid it's final farewell.  Once again you can leave the house clad in shorts.  Tonight will be warm enough to enjoy a picnic in the serenity of the backyard with the company of friends or a good book.

And so today, before the evening warmth comes, it is time to meander along the river and let peace flow over you.  Of course, if you should happen to wander off the Centennial Trail and climb on the rocks along the shore, new items will delight you.

Grasshoppers jump hurriedly away from you...bugs swirl on top of the water...mini waterfalls spread around you as water cascades between rocks...and if you look over toward your companion, you might happen to notice a reddish tint in the water.  Peering a little closer from your perch on top of a boulder, you notice it looks a bit like a lobster.  Curiously (yet gently) poking at it with a stick to 1) see what it really is and 2) show your friend where you're looking, it darts down.

It is a lobster!

Okay, well, technically a crawdad/crayfish/crawfish.  It's surprising how red his body is, as he stumbles along the murky rocks.  After a few minutes he disappears from your view on your vantage point.  Who knew there were crawfish in the Spokane River?  Kind of neat, actually, although surprising, given how contaminated the Spokane River is.

They do say you learn something new every day.

Life's little absurdities

The gym:  It's a place where you go to sweat, to up your heart rate.  You lift weights.  Stretch.  Contort your body into weird positions in yoga.  Test your endurance in pilates.  The gym says "be healthy!"  When you over indulge, it's the hefty price you pay.

It's not the place you go to make eyes at a man or pick up a beautiful woman.  I mean, we're all sweaty there.  Or rather, we should be.  I'll never understand the girls who prance around half-clad in spandex and a bra in order to watch the men lift too-heavy weights in an effort to impress.  Those people never really do anything while at there.

I guess I can maybe see where they're coming from...people at the gym might be healthy and fit (that's a big might).  However, what I absolutely don't understand are the people who turn on food tv.  The Food Network.  Top Chef.  Ace of Cakes.  America's Best Desserts.  Are you trying to punish yourself?  I mean, when my regularly scheduled program is interrupted to show me a blizzard from Dairy Queen, I'm scrambling to change the channel before I get the craving for a blizzard...or french fries.  I don't want to stare at food, it's like punishing myself.  How do you gawk at amazing-sounding, sinfully high-calorie dishes for an hour while you're at the gym?

Or is that why you leave after only 30 minutes...?

Photo courtesy of photostock.

The silly gene

I vant to suck ver blood!

Sometimes you need to be a little silly.  I mean, when I am overcome by a good mood that uplifts my heart and my step...it creeps out into a sing-song voice and actions.

I can literally bounce around the house and act crazy.  The dumbest thoughts come to mind and I actually say them.  It certainly makes for an interesting day which leaves people scratching their heads, but with a smile.

I think it's genetic.

Growing up, each of us had our own chores to do: clean the bathroom, do the dishes, mow the lawn, or take care of the laundry.  If we didn't do our chores, we didn't get allowance.

Being the awesome sister that I am, I sometimes helped my sister in the kitchen.  We would turn on our favorite music and dance around while we put away the dishes.  Fun times.  I highly recommend all sisters to have that joy.

One fateful day, which will be forever engrained on my memory, my sister and I were doing our usual antics in the kitchen to a Five Iron Frenzy CD when my mother walked back into the room.  She took one look at us and laughed.

It was probably 5 seconds that she stood there and just watched us.  And then something overcame her.  She grabbed the nearest item (which just so happened to be a spatula), and joined in.

Here's the song (if you can get through the first 45 seconds of "When I go out") to help you picture it.  Keeping perfect time, my mother pranced--that's right, pranced--through the kitchen and into the living room, spatula swinging and all.



My sister and I collapsed on the floor laughing.  When we could breathe again, we stood up and gave our mom a great big hug, because not everyone has such an amazing mother.

And now we know where we get it from.

Something right

Someone definitely did something right.  Something very, very right.

Flowers.  From the manfriend.

This is a first.  Ever.

But I'm so glad he did.

Stopping to smell the ...er, moon?

The sky was beautiful last night...so I decided to snap a picture.  I really liked the eerily silhouetted clouds when the full moon ran behind them.

(Honestly, my camera died and the camera on the iPhone 4 is nice, but not professional type quality...and maybe being in a moving car isn't conducive to picture taking.  Moon shots don't work out so well.  So this is the best you get.)

Oooooh, aaaaah.

Isn't it pretty?  Did you check out the sky last night?