Mouths of babes.

My sister works at a preschool and comes home every day with hilarious/adorable stories about the stuff the kids say and do to occupy their imaginations. This is my favorite conversation yet:

Trevor, 4: “My last name is danger…”

Sister: “Trevor, no it’s not.”

Trevor: “Ugh! You’re right.”


Time away for a gourmet cupcake, a second viewing of Bridesmaids, multiple bottles of wine, a farmer’s market picnic, an extra-large Golden Retriever named Cody, a trip to the fabric store, a Father’s Day steak dinner, a lazy Sunday, and a kick-ass Monday.


Ever have one of those days when everyone you encounter is your new best friend? That was my day — the thunderstorm-iest of Thursdays, requiring a half hour of snooze buttons and my largest coffee mug to get rolling.

  • A YMCA group pulled me over at the water fountain to invite me to their official “Girl’s Night Out,” touting scrapbooking, candles and bone density tests. “All my favorite things!” I thought. Also wine tasting. I might go…
  • An old man at the library jokingly remarked (in that way really old men have where you can’t exactly tell they’re joking, but you really hope they crack before the uncertainty gets awkward) that I had to stop smiling so much. “I’m going to have to report you to the Federal Bureau of Frowning,” he wheezed. And he looked like this.
  • The county recorder told me she’s going to figure out how I can make more friends. She’s brainstorming and reporting to me next Wednesday during my weekly stop for land transfer records.

The mood is either a carry-over from last weekend’s wonderful trip to Iowa City or anticipation of good weekends to come (Modern Family/SYTYCD marathon? Lace skirts and Ira Glass? Chicago?). I love love love the little things and people in my life. Thanks.


I’ve been dancing to a lot of Neil Diamond and Paul Simon, and I’ve been busy:

Making friends with strange cows.

Moving to Iowa (officially).

Buying dresses.

Not buying food.


Making friends with strange cats.