Highland Fling

My man had a birthday. And he took us to Scotland to celebrate.

The stories, oh, the stories.

The massacre of Glencoe. The battle of Killiecrankie. The true meaning of The Bonnie banks of Loch Lomond that our tour guide Dan told us with his beautiful lilting brogue...

The people are the warmest, friendliest, truest people. And when they talk, you feel instantly as though you are hearing the language sung rather than spoken. I felt at home at once. And I even liked Haggis.

Here is a big, fat, juicy slideshow of our trip. I'm not kidding - it takes a while to watch, so if you have the time, lovely, if not be warned.

HeadSong Friday: Vacation

I was never big on the girl groups in the 80's, even though those songs should, like, TOtally take me back to a time when I was young and carefree and didn't have a muffin top above my jeans.

But since my boys are leaving today for SoCal, and I will have the house to myself for 48 hours, when my husband comes home to me (alone) and we will spend the next five days doing what comes naturally (you know, bitching at each other about getting the chores done with occasional bursts of hot monkey love), I woke up this morning with the song playing... no... BLARING in my head.

I'll miss my guys - I know I will. But alone time? Working in my garden without having to find something or cook something or watch something...once a year I think I can handle it.

Spring Break

JH and I are heading south tomorrow to see Grandma and Grandpa in California.

Don't tell the cat.

Whoever said it's the journey, not the destination...

...clearly has never been lost in Hollister, CA during the motorcycle rally.

Not that we wouldn't have LOVED to get out of the car and look at the bikes and chat with everyone - we would have!


But we'd already been in the car for a day and a half.

That beginning of the road trip excitement had worn off, and now it was just hot and Grandma and Grandpa were only six hours away if we could only figure a way out of this mess!

We figured it out, eventually, but not before I got to take a lot of pictures of sky (for you, D!),



and the one blessing in all of it was that JH FINALLY took a nap.

He'd been up late for over a week, and was so excited to be heading to G&G's, which really is like Disneyland compared to the bootcamp that is home, that he had become like a parody of a whiny child in the backseat, repeating "how long until we get to Grandma's?!".

Before Hollister, we did manage to have our lunch at Casa de Fruta, which has been our stopping place for years. It's an amazing little oasis that grows every time we go.


It was first a stop for fruit, then lunch, and then when Joe-Henry came along, the playground and a train ride, but now they've added a carousel.


We managed it all in an hour, and asked what the traffic problem was (the bike rally in Hollister) that had kept us at 10 mph for the last hour. Even with this information, we managed to go further into the belly of the beast and get ourselves incredibly frustrated for a good couple hours. Luckily, Joe-Henry managed to stay pretty calm through all of it.

But we eventually found our way to the 101, and later to Grandma and Grandpa's house, and the hugs and kisses haven't stopped since.

We traveled to LA to see Joe-Henry's doctors, and some dear friends, and this morning, we managed a trip to the ER, but that's a post for a later day. Tomorrow, Charley and I will head to San Francicso for a little R&R, then home for a little more. Joe-Henry will be here for an extra 4 days, the longest I've ever been away from him, being loved to bits and pieces by his amazing Grandparents. I hope he still will want to come home. Because as much as I look forward to the alone time (and OH! I look forward to that time), I know I am going to feel like I'm missing a limb the entire time. But watching him with his Grandma last night snuggled up watching Winnie the Pooh and laughing so hard, I was so glad he'd have that time with them alone. Time to get spoiled rotten, and hugged and kissed until he squirms.

I've misplaced my brain.

It is only three days into summer vacation, and I am wondering how many days are left.

My brain cells are being eaten by pms and a six year old. Heellllpppp meeeeeee.

going home

We've been on a little vacation. We came to Carpinteria, CA to visit Joe-Henry's Grandma and Grandpa (and assorted other family and friends), and bask in the weather. Well, I don't want to say too much, because I know how cold it's been in other parts of the country, but...

This weather has been perfect. And this light. The February light in Central California is spectacular. The colors are so vibrant it's like being on mushrooms (not that I'd know anything about that, Joe-Henry, if you happen to read this later in your teen years, say, and are wondering why you can't do drugs because your mom did), and the air smelled like Eucalyptus and the ocean and campfires.

It's always hard to leave. Joe-Henry has such a bond with his Grandparents, and they love him dearly, and I always feel like the Nazi in "Sophie's Choice". But I know we'll see them again soon. And believe it or not, I'm looking forward to home.
Even though at home, there is rain, and laundry and runny cat poop, there is also our little family unit. My hardworking husband, who came down for only two days and went back early to go to work; our diabetic cat and the other one, the one that sounds like Darth Vader and shits on the rug; and there's our little Grandma house that catches the light like a crystal hanging in a window; there is our routine - school, volunteer work, my life.

I'm grateful for all of it. The vacation, and the return trip. Home.