jack- pix from a proud aunt

Best of Africa Pix

Africa through my eyes

White Rock in the winter

the parking lot

Ever have one of those days? November 26th, 2007 is one of those days. I like to think of it as a trifecta of bad decisions. Let me set the scene.
This morning I realized half-way on the drive to work that my cell-phone was gently cradled at home on the charger - no worries, i say to myself, after all, I won't need it at the office today (or so I thought). My second killer move, that will later play a pivotal role in my day, is my piss-poor choice of footwear. But I blame this on some defective female chromosome, one that programs us to continuously select style over substance. Who cares if my Nine West boots have a heel 1/16 of an inch wide? They are smokin'! My third, and perhaps worst decision was when I left the office at a reasonable time and decided to hop on the bus home . But wait, there's a freebie I'll throw in for good measure. The Wild Card! Although not relative to the story, I did sigh on the mirrored elevator ride up to the office when I realized that not only had static electricity been horribly unkind to my already frizz-ease resistant hair, but I had forgotten to put a stitch of make-up on. I am not so vain to think make-up makes a huge difference, but in my pale-faced case, it does help with pigmentation deficiencies. But I digress.
It was a decent wrap up time at work - only a 9 hour day! I told Smiley that I would spare him driving across town and would catch the bus home. After all, I had a great novel to help the commute fly by (or so I thought). As the wheels on the bus went round and round through Marpole, I drifted off to sleep - for some reason I can never keep my eyes open in Marpole. After what felt like hours of sleeping (and I'm sure drooling and sleep-talking) - I awoke with a startle, and disbelief to find that we had only travelled what should take 15 minutes. It had been two hours. The bus was at a crawl. I'd put it at 10 kms/hr tops. A dump of snow was hitting the ground - so much so, that the guy sitting behind me kept wiping the window every five minutes, uttering the phrase, "aw come on!" or mixing it up periodically, and eloquently with "fuck me!" Sometimes he'd throw in an "are you kidding me!?!" for good measure.
I listened carefully over the crowd of passengers talking on their cell phones (yes, I was jealous) -and i could hear bits and pieces of the bus driver's cell conversation - enough to extract the key phrase "we'll never make it".
"Aw, come on!" I thought. Then, "fuck me."
The bus driver couldn't maneuver the bus along a sloped stretch of the King George Highway, so he pulled over and let us out.
"Are you kidding me?"
I couldn't believe it. The option was, for some reason, to get out or to catch a lift with him back to Richmond.
Wasn't there some kind of bus driver oath like thou shalt get thee passenger to his or her desired stop?
I smiled to myself (even after the two and half hour bus ride) and thought, and so it begins.
I was that girl. That girl you shake your head at as you drive by and see her running through the snow in piss poor shoes with no sign of a hat or umbrella. I was that girl slipping and sliding crossing the highway trying to find a pay phone, which by the way, don't exist in large quantities anywhere anymore.
I saw the golden arches, the ones I usually avoid at all cost. But today they called to me like heavenly gates. I ran inside, dripping from head to toe and asked the tweenager behind the counter if I could use the phone.
"Nope." She said. "Sorry."
Sweet.
I ran through a construction yard and felt the stares and tuned out the laughter from the men driving by in snowplows. I didn't care, I was miss-Kelly-stupid-shoes on a mission to find a payphone.
I made my way to Winners and the woman behind the customer service counter, god bless her, let me use their phone. I dialled up Smiley, but he was still stuck in traffic in Burnaby. I would wait for him in the cozy comforts of the small ma-and-pa start-up biz, Starbucks.
I sat down with my pumpkin spiced latte - yes, that's right, none of the fancy half caf this, extra hot that, bone dry this, extra skinny that - none of that crap - i was going for straight up fatty comfort.
I was sitting down for five minutes when a forty-ish year old man sat down at my table. "I'm bored and you've got beautiful hair" he says. I almost spat my drink in his face with laughter. He couldn't be serious. Was the poor man blind? Was he really referring to the hair plastered to my head from all the snow? Is the drowned-rat-look all the rage these days?
He gave me his card, he was an artist. Perhaps he saw my hair as some kind of work of art. Medusa?
I kept smiling as he talked and glanced out the window, trying to will Smiley to my side. I was using so much energy to will the sight of my car to Starbucks that my eyeballs were probably totally protruding from my head.
I made my way to Save-On Foods and found another courtousy phone. I would wait for Smiley somewhere between the magazines and frozen food.
Although it ended up being four hours to get home, all in all, you've got to love a good curveball. Even if it is made of snow.

Inspiration

I just finished watching a wonderful film called Paris, je t'aime. It's a series of short films about little moments captured in the different quarters of Paris. I loved the fact that each writer/director found a unique way to capture a slice of life set against the unifying backdrop of Paris. It just goes to show you that for each individual, inspiration comes in many translations.

I feel lucky lately -somehow I've come across the right mix of circumstances to draw a lot of inspiration from.

For me, it all starts with a great cup of coffee - rich in aroma, awakening the senses, warming the belly. It commands your attention and needs to be shared; shared with a great book, shared with the morning paper, shared with a gathering of friends, shared with sweat while writing a late night essay.

It's the joy of finding a wonderful book. You want to carry it with you everywhere to read in stolen moments. You want to dive into it, consuming every page with great fervor and yet you don't want it to end. It wakes up your imagination and puts you in the directors chair, conjuring images frame by frame.

Inspiration comes from a film that stays with me long after the final credits roll. One that makes me look at life with a fresh new take. One that makes me laugh out loud, one that makes me want to run out and tell everyone about it, one that provokes my comfort zone, one that makes me go into the ugly cry, one that I can't forget. Paris je t'aime inspired me to write this mini essay because it reminded me why I always walk away feeling so enriched by foreign films. The storytelling isn't formulaic. It is a celebration of quiet moments, flawed characters, paired nicely with a glass of ruby red wine and the right piece of cheese.

As I grow older, I am finding inspiration in food. Ever since joining the yaya sisters at work, and being treated monthly to ush and lynny's gourmet cooking, I see the art in their creations. This is a big change for a girl who can get lost in a White Spot veggie burger. I love watching the effort that goes into planning a beautiful meal. The kitchen conversations, the thoughtful addition or omission of ingredients, the taste testing, the dizzying arrangement of colours and blending of spices. I hope to learn from these women so one day I can treat my friends and family to the same wonderful cuisine.

I am inspired to be in a room full of friends or family, which really are one and the same. After losing my beloved friend Scott a short few months ago, I have come to appreciate every moment with loved ones. There is tangible energy in a room buzzing with conversation, big laughs and real hugs. I like to be in the moment, look around me and mentally release the shutter, to capture the image. How did I get so lucky to have found so many quality people?

Of course, nothing can compete for my inspiration's attention like nature. It is the greatest piece of artwork that offers up the biggest spiritual payoff. It is the vastness of a hike through the mountains, the serenity of a quiet paddle down a meandering river, the pure pleasure of photographing animals in their natural environment, the perspective reminder you get from falling asleep under the stars, the hidden beauty of snorkelling through pristine turqoise water, the joy of watching your garden push through the soil, the cozy pleasure derived from being under a blanket indoors while a symphany of sound erupts from the perfect storm. It is dew on a blade of grass, fog blanketing a farmer's field, waves pummelling themselves against a rocky shore, sunshine warming your face.

It is the simplest things where the greatest joy can be found; starting a new journal, my dog licking my face, riding my bike down a hill, finding a new song that I can't get enough of, holding a baby, taking a photo that totally captures the moment right, yoga, dancing, making people laugh, swimming, a hot shower with substantial water pressure. Gestures. As I grow older, gestures mean the most. People can talk up a storm, but it's through gestures that they show you who they are and show you love. It's little things like how Smiley will drive out of his way to drop me off at work, how he will cook me my favourite meal if i've had a long day. It's his way of putting the coffee on early so it's made when I wake up. It's countless little surprises that make their way into our days - look for them because I have a feeling, when all is said and done, it's the littlest things that will mean the most.

Scotty

I miss you.

I remember when we met as if it were yesterday. It was Caroline's surprise 17th birthday. I was 15 and you were 19. We had just met and we stayed up until dawn talking. Little did I know, 20 years later, that you and I would be the last ones up talking before you left this world.

You were this gentle, kind soul who I instantly adored. You and I would always huddle together at any gathering and talk endlessly about books we were devouring, music we were passionate about and movies we just had to have the other see. You were one of my best friends - and we made a promise to one another that we were going to pick up right where we left off when I got back from Africa. I remember every dinner we had together - especially all of the ones we shared with Steve and Smiley - i always had so much fun going out with my boys. I remember every trip we took - to Baker, to Mexico, to Vegas, to San Fran, to North Carolina - always surrounded by our amazing circle of friends. You would have been so moved to see our house full of all of those who loved you within hours of hearing of your death. You were adored by everyone who knew you. We all hugged, shared tears and swapped countless funny memories. We all loved you for different reasons because there was so much you gave to so many. I laugh (and cringe of course) when I think back to all the times we shared at the house of slack - our icy breath in front of us as we all huddled together under countless sleeping bags to stay warm. I love thinking about the times we shared in New West and playing baseball on the Dust. But I can't talk about you in the past tense. You are too much a part of my present, a part of who I am. I love you and am so happy that I got to tell you. And you told me that because you loved me, you needed to tell me first that you were gay. I held that secret to myself until you were ready to tell the world. And when you did, I was so proud of you. I am still so happy that you lived as you were meant to live. I'm so blessed that I got to see you the night before you died. We laughed and hugged and it felt just like old times. You and I sat on the sofa and talked until dawn-genuinely interested in one another's lives. We told each other we loved one another and you kissed me goodbye. We are all going to live for you. I carry you with me in my days and I am taking you with me to Africa. You are now a part of who I am. You are now a part of everyone who had the priviledge and honour of knowing you. I love you and always will.

I miss you.

one of my favourite photo subjects

Taking my dream trip

Africa has been my dream trip since I was a little girl. Steeped in history, rich in wildlife and culture, the appeal of Africa runs deep for me. Ever since Smiley and I booked our tour, I have been giddy and can't believe such a long held dream is finally coming to fruition. We will be camping for 15 days, traversing through Kenya & Tanzania. I wanted to find a trip that offers a unique mix of wildlife viewing and meeting local villagers. Our itinery includes an afternoon with children in an east african orphanage(where I'm hoping to find out more about their adoption policies), game drives at Lake Nakuru (home of rhinos, leopards and flamingos), Lake Naivasha (home of colobus monkeys), the Masai Mara Game reserve (home of wildebeest, zebra, gazelles, lions, cheetahs, elephants, giraffes), Lake Victoria (Africa's largest lake), Serengeti National Park (wildebeest, antelope, lions, cheetahs), Ngorongoro Conservation Area & crater (home of black rhino, lions, buffalo, elephants, zebras), Lake Manyara (hippos, elephants, flamingos), Engaruka (where we spend the afternoon with the Masai tribe & visit a local school) and then journey back to Nairobi. We have been warned that some of the camp sites are very primitive and just have pit toilets without any running water for showers. But I think it will add to the adventure of travelling in Africa. It will be a real safari from start to finish.
If there is one thing I have learned it's that life is short and time flies by quickly, you have to do everything in your power to make your dreams come true.

Sunset kayak along the Nicomekl River

We couldn't have asked for a better night. On June 2nd, the sun went down in a brilliant wash of fiery reds, burnt oranges and soft yellows. What better vantage point to watch the sun fall from the sky than in a kayak? The water was so still. I honestly felt like I could have been drifting along the Amazon, all you could hear were a chorus of bird calls from the surrounding trees. Nothing makes me feel more alive than spending time in the great outdoors. And when you couple that with fabulous friends and chocolate fondue - it's pure bliss.

going to extremes

Forbes and I headed down to Seattle for another dose of facetime with Kitty. Shortly after arriving, the whirlwind that is Kitty had us on the move. We tossed on our workout gear and headed for our first hot yoga class. Forbes giggled when she saw me in my workout clothes, and said, "kel, wait til you see what I packed." Without a moment's hesitation, she walked out of the bathroom wearing the same outfit. We both had packed our old volleyball jerseys and looked like doublemint nerds. Kitty was a fabulous sport for taking us to a place she frequents. I'm sure people thought we were her Swedish volleyball team billets. The class was amazing. I am hooked on hot yoga. I never thought I'd like it - the thought of working out in sauna-degree heat seemed like a nausea-inducing concept to me. I loved doing the Hatha yoga flow with sweat dripping all over me. It just made me feel so strong (and smell strong, I'm sure).
On Saturday Kitty's friend Duncan took us out on his boat around Lake Washington. I was totally inspired listening to the stories Duncan, Scott and Katie told of their mountaineering trips. This is a group of hard core athletes. I am so glad Kitty befriended such a great group in Seattle. Smiley and I always wanted to find more friends who were gung ho to really experience the great outdoors in Vancouver. It was awesome to hear from a group who frequently got together to create their own adventures. Watching Duncan on the wakeboard was incredible. He was doing flips and riding the waves like a pro. We were giggling at how Kitty was trying to learn his hand gestures while she drove the boat. He would give her a gesture wanting her to take the boat on a 270 degree turn and she was clearly only doing a 147 degree spin. We were laughing that she'd need a protractor to figure out some of his signals. Duncan laughed at Forbes and I, the Canadian girls, huddled under a steady layer of fleece, towels and blankets -the hot yoga must have messed with our great white north thermometers. On Sunday we dashed to another hot yoga class - feeling ever-so-professional and looking again, like uber dorks in our matching volleyball jerseys. After the class of swass, Kitty whisked us to a funky brunch spot - sans showers. I swear the patrons could smell us coming from a mile away. We all left wet blotches on our chairs when we finished our meals. Swassy and classy - that's us.
I always feel like I've gone away to a great spa for the weekend when I have quality time with the girls - my sides hurt from laughing so much and I feel rejuventated from all the adventures and great conversations. More Pix: seattle trip

Hiking The Chief

In my books, there's nothing better than spending our spare time hiking in the great outdoors on a gorgeous sunny day like this. Great exercise, spectacular views, fresh air and a sense of accomplishment - it doesn't get much better than this. How lucky are we to live in such a beautiful province? For more photos of our day climbing the Chief, click here: The Chief

catch this guy: Martin Sexton

If you ever come across Martin Sexton in your local concert listings, I highly recommend you check out his show. I remember when I first saw him perform at a tiny club nestled in Park City, Utah at last year's Sundance Film Festival. The snow was falling outside and we were all huddled together, waiting for him to hit the stage. I had no idea what to expect, I had never heard of Martin Sexton before. As soon as he started playing I was hooked. His soulful voice and amazing vocal range sent goosebumps rippling across my arms. I couldn't believe that I hadn't heard of this immensely talented singer before. He had the stage presence of Jack Black, but the beautiful soul of Grant Lee Buffalo. We were fortunate enough to catch him again in Seattle at the Showbox on April 19th. He did not disappoint. Backed up by a band this time, his show had more of an O Brother, Where Art Thou feel to it - a real southern swamp kind of sound. I love the fact that he partnered up with Clif Bar to make his tour "green." His tour bus is filled with biodiesel, his tour shirts are made from organic cotton, he only eats organic food back stage - he's paving the way for bands to make a lighter imprint.

I am a bit of a purist and prefer the show where it was just Martin and his guitar in Utah -it is truly the best way to showcase his vocal range. Maybe I have a soft spot because we were lucky enough to run into him at the grocery store in Utah, where we got to thank him in person for his great show. I still giggle when I think of how People Magazine takes photos of celebrities with captions reading, "they buy groceries, just like us." He's a down-to-earth kind of guy and once you check him out while his "church" is in session, you too will be a believer.

on being a woman

I had a wonderful morning sitting on the back porch in the sun reading the book "Becoming Myself." It's a wonderful collection of essays written by women from all walks of life on what it means to be a woman.
I thought I'd take a few moments to write my own perspective on that very topic.

I was born at the right time. I love the fact that as women today we don't have to be pigeon-holed. We can be wonderfully complex creatures who aren't boxed in. As I grow older, I embrace the very things that make me different. I used to think that happiness was "the dream". I thought that happiness meant you had to have a husband, children, a house, a retirement plan, and a career. But as time has gone on, I've realized that to me happiness means tapping into all the things that speak to my soul. Happiness is discovering my unique strengths and developing them to their fullest potential. Being a woman is becoming who I am meant to be, not who I "ought to be".
I love the fact that I grew up with with adventurous girls who have turned into my life-long friends. We drew pleasure from jumping ditches, climbing trees and doing cartwheels in our yards. We could have a picnic with our dolls in the garden and follow it up with bike races around the block. We could be girly girls and tomboys in the same week and it didn't matter. To this day, I feel just as pretty in a dress as I do wearing my hiking boots and climbing in the mountains. I love the empowerment that comes with being a modern woman. Today's woman can be anything she puts her mind to. She should never apologize for who she is. If a woman chooses to be a homemaker, a career woman, a working mom, a single woman - she can. We have finally gained the right to choose.

I love the fact that I have friends from all walks of life: women who champion one another and support one another in their individul pursuits of happiness. I have no time for women who waste their energy cutting one another down. Women's friendships are most empowering when we can lean on one another and lift each other on our shoulders.
Oprah always says you have "aha" moments in your life. I remember lying on a rooftop in New Orleans last year, hammering in soffits. I looked around me and realized I had truly grown as a woman. With a fear of heights and a shy disposition, being on a rooftop and surrounded by strangers on foreign soil was definitely out of my comfort zone. But in that moment, I realized that I was happy, helpful, having a laugh and learning new skills. I was doing something that my grandma never could in her day. It would have been unheard of for a woman of her era to be away from her family working on a construction site.
We've come a long way. I can't wait to see what the future holds for each of my friends. As long as we try our best with each day, and keep growing, there's no limit to what we can become. So don't worry about "doing it right" worry more about doing it your own way.

New Resume Addition: Experienced at lining up

I don't know what could possibly be more fun than standing in line for 9 1/2 hours to renew your passport. Oh wait, I know, standing in line for 9 1/2 hours and going home empty handed. Farcical is probably the best word to describe today's events - but leaning more to the definition of "stupid" than "slap happy". Although, I have to admit, I could have happily slapped a few people today.

Work offered me the opportunity to fly to Las Vegas for a conference in two weeks, provided I get my passport updated in time. I called around and happily discovered that if you go to the downtown branch of "Passport Canada" you just have to show a meeting itinerary or airline tickets and for an extra $70 or $80 you can expedite the process and get your passport in three short business days. A couple of weeks ago a co-worker of mine lined up to renew her passport at 6 a.m. and walked out of the downtown office by 10 a.m. So, I naively thought that if I arrived at 7 a.m. I should have the process wrapped up by noon. You know, leaving ample time aside for an afternoon run, walking molly on the beach and catching up with my friends.

My first mistake was arriving at 7 without a coffee in hand. I stood in line and had to wait outside for about an hour before they shuffled us indoors. All I could do was stare longingly at those ahead of me who had the white gleam of starbucks cups in hand. "Oooooh look at me, I'm so organized and left myself an extra five minutes so that I could actually enjoy my time outside in line with a grande double shot non fat extra hot 1/2 shot of vanilla latte." Do you remember that feeling you get at Disneyland when you think you're getting close to the front of the line, only to round a corner and see it zig-zagging its way over hell's half acre? I had the same sinking feeling when they let us into Sinclair Center. If you ever wonder where Vancouverites hang out these days, they're all in Sinclair Center in the passport line. Apparently there were hundreds of people in line before 6. a.m. My heart sank as I saw people ahead with their lawn chairs in hand.

It's funny when you're in a line up all day. Your mentality shifts into one of desperation. "Can you hold my place in line? I'll be right back I have to run to the ladies room." And you do everything in warp speed so that you can quickly return to "your spot". And just as an aside, what are the rules with the handicapped stall in a public washroom. If there's a line-up, can you use the stall? I used it and then felt guilty after when I noticed a woman with a cane in line.

But I digress.

I giggled to myself when I noticed around 2 p.m. (7 hours into the line) - the old men in line were all starting to mill about. With one hand on their hips and another shielding their eyes as if blinded by the sun, they looked upwards towards the passport office hoping some passport pope-like ticket agent would come to the balcony and give us a tidbit of guidance. I especially revelled in the fact that it took until 3 p.m. for someone to swing by and tell us that, oh no, new development - we might not make it, but it's up to us to stay or go. Seeing as though I had spent 8 hours up until this point sitting & reading, shuffling along, repeat, repeat, repeat, repeat - I decided to stay until the end. At 4 p.m., the passport agents handed us a yellow form - we wouldn't get to see an agent that day, but if we held onto these forms, they would allow us to deposit all of our information into a drop box. They made us line up (a process we were stars at by now) - and "stand by" while they put together said drop box. At 4:15 a very grumpy and over worked commissionaire told me in a thick scottish accent it was a waste of time to be there and that the drop box wasn't going to happen! I asked him if we could come back in the morning to this phantom "drop box" that was being set up. And he said, "look lady, you're naught gittin it, I'm tellin ya, it ain't goin' to happen!" As he started screaming and swearing, people gathered around and asked to speak to his manager. He just laughed at us and said, "I am but one man!"

Long story short, I will not be going to my conference, I am not one iota ahead in terms of my passport application and I now get to work the weekend in lieu of having this day off. Good times!!

Marley and Me

I wanted to strongly recommend the book Marley and Me to all my dog-loving friends. Josh Grogan's heartfelt and hilarious account of the trials and tribulations of raising a barelling 97-pound golden lab is one of the best books I've read in a long time. His comical accounts of dog rearing are intertwined with his journey of creating a career and life for himself with his wife Jenny . From the touching account of how Marley paused from his rambunctous nature to rest his head in Jenny's lap after her miscarriage.....to the hilarious account of how Marley, tied to a table at an outdoor cafe took off, table and all, in pursuit of a poodle.. makes you fall in love with the spontaneous and loyal nature of man's best friend. Through every stage of Marley's life, we are reminded of what it was like to raise our own dogs: the unpredictable destruction, the tales of public embarassment, and evidence of divine loyalty. There's a famous quote I love by an unknown author: "My goal in life is to become the person my dog thinks I am." Josh Grogan's simple telling of his thirteen years spent with Marley are deeply affecting. The image of him sleeping on the floor downstairs in a sleeping bag next to Marley when Marley couldn't climb the stairs anymore speaks volumes about the profound love we feel for our furry family members. Dogs teach us to slow down, to take long walks and to enjoy the outdoors. They teach us about selflessness and unwavering loyalty. They don't care if you are rich or poor, if you are popular or not, they just give you their heart everytime you walk through the door. I recommend this book, not only for its beautiful storytelling, but more importantly because I think we can all learn a thing or two from the unconditional friendship and love offered to us by dogs.

Playing with fire

Happy Valentine's Day!

This is a photo of Molly at 3 months old. That's right, I'm pulling out the cliche baby animal photo to tug at the heartstrings. It's quite funny that I am writing a Valentine's Day entry since I am one of the few people who considers Valentine's Day to be a contrived event where Hallmark, Florists and Purdy's Chocolates executives sit together in a giant boardroom laughing and high-fiving one another as they count their stacks of money. Don't get me wrong, I am a romantic at heart. I just find it funny when I think of scenarios like the following: "What do you mean your restaurant is fully reserved? My wife is going to kill me! Doesn't that mean anything to you? Can't you squeeze in a small table for two somewhere? Damn you! You're ruining me! I have to be romantic today!" so, the customer opts for plan B and runs to the florist. "What do you mean you're sold out of roses! Carnations? Are you kidding me? My wife thinks carnations are for teenagers who just don't know better! Are you trying to ruin me?"
But I do want to take this opportunity to talk a little about love. I think love shows up in your life in all shapes and forms. Out of total gratitude, I just wanted to write down some examples of what love means to me because I have been fortunate to feel love so profoundly in my life:
-feeling lit up inside just because you're around someone
-making someone laugh
-seeing a child's face light up when they see you
-holding hands
-my 95 year old grandma's baking
-listening to molly snore
-cooper falling asleep on my stomach
-laughing so hard you have tears rolling down your cheeks
-getting all the girls together for a glass of wine or a cup of tea
-writing a letter
-homemade cards
-dancing
-falling asleep in a tent (makes me feel like a kid)
-riding my bike (makes me feel like a kid)
-watching two seniors walking hand in hand
-taking photos of landscapes or animals (pure candidness)
-working on my home
-finding a new song that I connect with
-volunteering
-family dinners
-Smiley making me coffee before he goes to work
So, that's my Valentine's Day sentiment. It's not the big sweeping gestures that make impacts on me. It's really the little moments in life that fill my heart. xoxoxox

Seattle Bitchfest

"Among those whom I like or admire, I can find no common denominator, but among those whom I love, I can: all of them make me laugh." (W.H. Auden)
I can't fully express how much I appreciate these friends of mine. One thing I know for sure is that I feel wealthy just knowing them. I am starting to see some trends forming around our Seattle excursions. I tend to drive down while Forbes sleeps and lets me listen to my tunes at a "reasonable napping volume". While we're driving, she'll wake periodically to take inventory on her snack supply and make sure I didn't steal her precious almonds. She will grab her blackberry to call or text J (roughly every 30-45 minutes) and undoubtedly ask me immediately afterwords: "Isn't J cute?" And at some point during the weekend Kitty will play an India Arie song and I will tear up. This weekend did not disappoint.
Here are a few of my favourite moments from our visit:
-Running in the beautiful sun around Green Lake
-Walking along the Kirkland waterfront, having great coffee coupled with wonderful conversation. Breaking into laughter as we sat on the pier and Kitty had the misfortune of taking in a deep breath just as Forbes let out one of her classic green clouds. It was a perfect example of Kitty being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I still think Forbes should be air care tested annually. I am pretty sure Al Gore would concur. He may want to add the Forbes factor to his CO2 emissions studies.
-Having a good heart to heart conversation while we waited in the car wash line-up....and realizing that Kitty's $1 tip really didn't go far
-Sampling some great French wine while we dined on Capitol Hill (where we got to treat Kitty for her wonderful promotion - too bad she didn't receive what she ordered) -Kitty and I had fun watching Forbes maintain her composure even though we didn't eat until 8:30
-Meeting Kitty's new friend "B" for dessert where Forbes asked him the best question of the night: "So "B", what do you like to do for fun besides Kitty?"
Some things that cracked me up that weren't funny at the moment, but in hindsight were quite funny: I put my contacts in Saturday morning and my new solution completely fried my retinas- apparently the guys on shift at "Clear Care" decided it would be funny to make contact solution entirely from bleach.
-Forbes' ginormous suitcase - she had packed as if she was traversing Europe when the weekend was over. She received a few tense calls and was in the doghouse for packing J's favourite jeans & earrings. But judging from the size of her suitcase, I'm guessing there weren't any clothes left in the apartment.
The biggest trend of all that I notice from our weekend trips is that I feel completely rejuvenated after. I love the mix of personalities when we're together. Most of all, I love the laughs we all share. I am so lucky.