i'm marrying my sister

I don't think that's legal, even in Kentucky. I should say "I'm performing the ceremony" for my sister and her fiance, Bob this weekend, on the Oregon Coast. And actually, this is my second wedding service. How, you ask, does an avowed Atheist like me get away with such blasphemy? Well, when I performed my brother and sister-in-law's wedding, he ordained me as "Minister of the Church of the Great Outdoors", which is what he and his hillbilly friends call it when they go out hunting on a Sunday morning. And it was appropriate, since their wedding was held on the banks of a gorgeous river, under towering Ponderosa Pines surrounded by beautiful mountains. We all wore levis and ate strange meat (well, they did) and we drank wine out of bottles wrapped in duct-tape and some "moonshine" type crap poured out of a plastic gasoline container. (My brother is, um, different. In a good way.)


ANYWAY, my sister's wedding will be held on the beach...also all of us in levis and, because it is the Oregon coast, rain gear. I don't have an official designation this time, because it's Oregon, which means if you wanted your pet patchouli-smelling, pot-smoking, guiatar-playing GOAT to marry you, that would be just fine.


Here's the happy couple. I just can't even begin to explain this photo. If any of my family would like to try, go right ahead.

*$%#@&*%#@!!!!!

Why am I not smart enough to figure out how to get that photo at the top of my blog to be the same size as the header?

Don't answer that (the why I'm not smart enough part) although if you have some advice/technical support, bring it on.

If we can implant computer chips in cats and dogs, why not kids?

Yesterday, David and I were discussing the new plan for the downstairs bedrooms once we move upstairs. Paint, carpet, which room will be his office (Yay! We can have our dining room table back!) etc. Anna will move upstairs with us, into her own room, but we recognize that the day will come that she'll want more privacy and distance, and will want to move back downstairs. The room that makes the most sense for her to have (own bathroom) also has it's own door. To the outside. Which, we're thinking, might be attractive to a teenager. I (only half-jokingly) said, "Well, by then it will be legal to implant teenagers with GPS devices so we can track her location." David, always the sharp one, says, "No! Even better, in addition to a GPS tracker, the chip will also make her feel itchy and nauseous when she comes into contact with teenage boys!" Brilliant. I'm going to apply for a patent.

The original owners of our house!

The top photo shows the front steps of our house.

No wonder the rock is crumbling; it's 100 years old! The other photo was taken across the street. That's our house in the background.

These are members of the Kilby family, the original owners of our house. We know very little about our house, other than that it was built in 1908. One of our neighbors has done some research on the neighborhood and somehow she ended up with these photos showing our house. She gave them to me last night. How cool is this? It makes me love our house even more.

because we don't let her have toys

Yes, it's a rock. Named Rocky, of course. That's Rocky, in his very own bed.

waiting for Ra Ra

First we waited in the house. Then we waited on the porch. Then, once I told her what direction they'd be coming from, she hauled a chair out onto the sidewalk so she'd "be sure to see them coming." It's not as if she was excited, or anything. Unfortunately, it started to rain, so she wasn't out there when they arrived.

As expected, we had a wonderful visit with our dear friends. There was dining and wine on the front porch by candle-light, due to a thunderstorm that rolled through and knocked out our power for 4 hours. There were impromtu jam sessions (Anna and Rod on drums, David on cowbell) there was a lovely day spent on the beach, swimming and sailing a small catamaran, there was dinner at Eric's house, there was playing horsie with Ra Ra, and there was MUCH hand-holding and snuggling.

Here is Anna on my bike, in front of Eric's mutant corn. It just grew, and grew and grew until it's at least 20 feet tall...but has NO ears on it. He found out he planted the wrong kind of corn!

Sunday morning we all hung out in Eric's amazing garden, picking cherry tomatoes, Heirloom tomatoes, onions, marigolds and herbs. Then we loaded up Anna's wagon and she had a "vegetable sale", hauling her wagon around the neighborhood. It was adorable. Photos coming soon (I didn't have my camera and Julie still uses FILM.)

I have been nominated for an award!

Cami, over at Full Circle has nominated me, ME, for the "Nice Award"!

Now, before those of you who know me fall over and die laughing, I'll tell you that I secretly think it's because I sort of, well, stalk her and her sister Cassie. These two cool sisters are talented and interesting and they help make the world a better place by raising (and homeschooling!) really cool kids who value experiences over "stuff", AND they live in one of my favorite places (the high desert of S. Idaho in view of the lovely and amazing Sawtooth Mountains.) Both take amazing photographs of their family adventures to the area's beautiful lakes and rivers and mountains, so I get to live vicariously through them.

Anyway, as long as you don't get me going about George Bush or religion, I AM nice. I am, damn it.