♥ The Weekend Adventures of Chandler Bing ♥

“Mommy, I’m not scared of heights,” he says…

I say, “Mr. Bing, I know.”

♥

“Mommy, but I like the cat grass,” he says…

I say, “Mr. Bing, I can see that. You killed it.”

♥

“Mommy, I want a nap,” he says.

“Thank Goodness,” I say.

♥

“Mommy, Chandler Bing is an idiot…”

“I know, Mr. Wee. I know…” I sigh.

♥

I Think I’m Turning Japanese? No, I Think I’m Turning French…

Well, at least that’s what I’ve been trying to do for the last week. I don’t know, you hear one Diana Krall song and you fall hopelessly end over end into the abyss that is french cafe`…

Allow me to elaborate.

Example One:

I made home-made Demi Glace`

Which requires also making Espagnole sauce…

Takes three hours, mind you…

Example Two:

Then, I took the Demi glace and made these delicious, tender little spare ribs with whipped potatoes, nothing better…

Example Three:

Wine

What more can I say? Even has a house on the label, and I’ve heard wine with a house means it’s good 😉

Example Four:

Diana Krall

 

Week At A Glance…

Once upon a time, I had a really busy week…

♥

Six hours of driving got me here, wrapping three-ply TP around my friend to make a wedding dress. It was a competition, and I learned that I should have been a fashion designer…

♥

After three hours of that and a few Champagne cocktails (ample time letting it wear off) I then got to the Ferry where it took me two hours (including waiting because of the UW Graduation at Safeco Field) to get to Seattle.

Needless to say, I crashed.

♥

The next day, My friend and I spent ten hours at thrift stores looking for things for her condo. We managed to make this:

2$ worth of furniture and spray paint…

And this:

♥

All the while, Hubby was at home making this:

Happy Garden Shed!

♥

Because he made me this, I bought him this:

♥

And then I went home. It was a good, LONG trip…

The Turtle and The Hare…

My feet looked at me and said, “I’m tired of being the turtle!”

♥

I laughed, sipping on my hot cocoa as my feet were elevated on the couch. “Too bad!” I retorted, though I felt the same way – I was tired of being the turtle, too.

♥

“Get me some new shoes and I’ll show you what we can do,” my feet challenged.

♥

A half smile snaked across my cheek. “But I don’t like to run.”

♥

My feet chuckled mockingly. “How would you know if you’ve never tried? You’ve always had an excuse, but what you don’t realize is that once you start, I guarantee you won’t want to stop!”

♥

Finding I was looking for a hobby, and not one to turn down a challenge, I narrowed my eyes and grabbed my old sneakers. “Let’s first give these shoes a try. I’m not buying you new toys if we won’t use them!”

♥

My feet frowned, but found they had no other choice. I took them to the track and off we went.

♥

At the end I stopped, breathing hard after only one mile.

♥

“So?” my feet asked, practically dancing with joy.

♥

I didn’t want to admit that I liked the feeling, so I just smiled and winked instead. “Yeah, we’ll see how I feel tomorrow.”

♥

The next day I woke with the most veracious need to run.

♥

My feet chuckled at me. “Told you so!”

♥

“Fine,” I broke down. “I’ll get you new shoes.”

♥

Little did I know that was the beginning of the end – the end of being a turtle, and the beginning of what would become my marathon training regimen.

♥

We now run three miles when we go out and we barely break a sweat (well, can’t really say the same for my feet). Biking for and hour and a half seems like a stroll through the park, and weight lifting – a cinch! Life as a Hare is so much better! My feet were right!

♥

It’s marathon season, folks! Get out, and get moving!

♥

A Room Fit For A Pixie…

Once upon a time, there was a room…

♥

 

♥

It was a basement room where travelers once stayed, but after the travelers left to find a home of their own, the room sighed with loneliness and longing.

♥

“I’ll fix you!” I exclaimed. “You will be fit for even the pickiest of guests! Even a Pixie!”

♥

The room frowned, doubtful of my abilities to breathe life back into his lonely walls – his bare, dented being.

♥

I just shook my head, using the room’s doubt to fuel my ambitions.

♥

All day I worked, lathering the walls, scrubbing the floor. Soon, soft surfaces began to appear within his bare heart: fabrics, curtains, and plush pillows for warmth.

♥

I saw the room grin, though he did not mean for me to see it. He did not want me to know that I was right – I could fix it!

♥

When the work was done I stood back with a sigh, admiring the beauty of the rooms new heart.

♥

♥

 ♥

The room caved in. “Thank you,” he breathed happily, a glint of a giggle in the voice.

♥

I nodded with satisfaction. It was indeed a room fit for the pickiest of Pixie’s…

♥

My mother.

♥