Miss Caroline!

Caroline came to stay with us this week. This was her first time staying with us. The first day and night she came with YaYa, and we went to the Children's Museum and then to Big Caroline's house to swim. Big Caroline was my other flower girl, you may recall. No pictures there, but a special nod to Big Caroline's father, John. He talked Jane/YaYa off the ledge when her new Caddy had a tire issue. You would have thought that we were going to have to run ourselves through a gauntlet of crazed people brandishing billy clubs. That was Jane's level of fear about her car losing air in its tire.

John fixed it temporarily until the service department heard Jane's concern.

All was solved and Jane headed home on Tuesday morning.

Once YaYa left, Caroline decided we should start our day yoga-ing.

Her dress wasn't exactly yoga appropriate, but neither are some of the clothes that I have seen people wear to yoga. I recognize that it is hot yoga, but you need not wear shorts that display your vulva. Perhaps vulva-short wearin' girl reads this blog.

Caroline and I hung out at school for a little bit, testing out the equipment and gathering some Reading Recovery books for an afternoon reading lesson.

We enjoyed a complimentary trip to the zoo courtesy of Marinda and Camille. They have a pass that allows them to bring poor or rather stingy friends. Aunt Bee is kind of a tight wad when it comes to others. I had already spent $40 going to the Children's Museum the day before. That's like a bottle of MoroccanOil. I'm working on my generosity skills.

The sprinkle park was a hit. I let her get soaked to the bone. She's not my kid, you know!

Caroline and Camille were two Cs in heaven.

Robeghan came down and we went to a Mexican joint for dinner. Caroline ate all of her cheese quesadilla. We played Akinator on my iPhone. If you haven't tried this app/game, get it. It is highly entertaining.

Now the part that wasn't heavenly or entertaining?

Sleeping with that 4 year old who moonlights as a She Beast once the sun goes down.

I kept thinking she grew more limbs in the night. No matter how I tried to rearrange my nearly 6 feet long frame, I had a toddler arm, leg or foot in my ribs, butt, neck, etc. She also repeated kicked the blinds against the window, making a lovely noise that awakened me any moment I drifted off for a second. At one point I found her head at the foot of the bed, thus explaining how I had just been kicked in the face. This is no exaggeration.

She reminded me of a far more thrashing/violent version of a creature that violates sleeping space as well.

The Courtney

Court is sort of like an amoeba while sharing a bed.

If I move, she quickly and quietly shifts her body to form around mine. She fill in any gaps in contact immediately. She usually does this while twitching her nose and making precious bunny/kitty like noises. She really is the most affectionate little sleeper ever. I always look at her lovingly while quickly shoving her away.

The next time Caroline and Court are in close proximity to one another, I am giving them a twin bed to share and then watching the kick/snuggle battle royale that commences.

Cheers!

Today was our actual anniversary. We went to a low key dinner.

I proposed a toast to my husband, joyfully exclaiming over a year of happiness.

He took this photo-

upon reflection I quickly changed my toast to

"Cheers to getting more food on the table than in my mouth."

Congratulations, Trinity.

You're married to a unique Peanuts character combination of Peppermint Patty (Round face)

and Pig Pen (self-explanatory.)

We had anniversary cake. We didn't have to freeze the top layer. Our wedding cake bakers are brilliant and just make you a fresh cake on your anniversary. This saved us from rotten peony poisoning.

T left me on Saturday night to go camping with some friends. That meant that we spent Friday evening at Dick's looking at overpriced freeze-dried astronaut food as back up nourishment in case his compass went bust and he was mauled by a bobcat.

Dick's also sells cat tents.

Look at that beauty.

I tried to buy it for Kashmir.

The salespeople claimed it was for display only.

What a shame. It would make a perfect cat tent. I think it would also work for small canine breeds such as Chihuahuas or also as shelter for rabbits or guinea pigs.

I spent Saturday reading Vogue, watching TV and working on some school stuff. I made my own chai latte in my favorite coffee cup. This was a gift from my friend Karen. It makes me laugh hysterically. That is a photo of me and Marinda in tutus, but my head is slightly lopped off due to some poor photo cropping.

Through the Years

I entertained myself this morning by cleaning out some photos and cards from my desk. I found this pile of school photos and had to share them with some commentary.

I've mentioned before that I was once a young boy.

This is kindergarten, and I do love that little Peter Pan collar.

This is my grandmother. She loved me and accepted my transgendered appearance.

By 2nd grade I was a little girl. We can thank the Lord Jesus and the blessed mother Mary for that. We certainly won't thank my own mother and her propensity to cut my hair far too short. This is my First Communion.

Wasn't I angelic?

4th grade. Look at those teeth. That turtleneck was sweet. This was not bad. Things got far worse.

By 6th grade I bore a strong resemblance to Arlene.

Big lips and droopy eyes.

6th grade

Another turtleneck.

Katie attempts to cool me up by curling my bangs to resemble a lotus flower.

Her powers pale in comparison to those of the fang.

It has dropped.

Time for 4 years of extreme orthodontia.

I had a permanent Rolex imprint on my forehead for the next few years.

My orthodontist was 80 and was a heavy leaner with his left arm as he pulled at my teeth with his right.

Memories are beautiful.

No more teeth photos for the next few years.

The turtlenecks kept coming though.

This is 7th grade, right before I discovered that my hair was actually insanely curly if I didn't rake through it with an enormous paddle brush.

I learned a lot that year.

I think this might be 8th grade. That's my shadow, Robby. Curly hair is in full effect and I've exchanged turtlenecks for Double Denim, or denim on denim.

This might be a submission for Awkward Family Photos.

Robby is flexing with his badass muscles while I apparently am trying to keep child predators from entering our hotel room to prey on our juvenile model selves. The slope of that back, Betsy, you've still got it. My posture has remained unchanged.

I close with another favorite of the three of us. I believe I'm a sophomore at IU and Robby is a senior. Katie was a senior at IU. Mom didn't have her photographic skills yet, as she shot us directly into the sun.

The memories that these photos evoke are so special.

They are also good for boosting my self esteem.

Anniversary Getaway

We went to Nashville on Saturday for our anniversary. We actually celebrated a week early, so we still officially have one week left of newlyweddedness. Aunt Shirley gave us a gift certificate to The Opryland Hotel, so we used it on Saturday night.

Our festivities began with a stop at Las Paletas, the gourmet popsicle shop in town.

Trinity posed so that I could get his new watch (an early anniversary/35th birthday present) in the picture.

I wanted a photo under the sign.

As I got myself together he shot this action move. It is so unflattering yet I think it makes me look like I was doing a popsicle shuffle/jig number. It appears that way because that's exactly what I was doing.

Our evening started with a drink at The Patterson House. It looks shady from the outside, but it has the best drinks in town. They don't allow photos inside but it looks like an old speakeasy. I had some delicious vodka cobbler drink with muddled raspberries. It was divine.

T by the fancy painting in our room pre dinner.

I realized my dress pattern was very similar to hotel room art.

Dinner at Solario in the hotel. Trinity actually ate some guacamole, which was huge. He avoids all foods that are green.

We concluded the evening with champagne cocktails.

Sunday morning was a visit to The Hermitage, home of Andrew Jackson.

We love a good audio tour! We go at our own pace and aren't forced to smile awkwardly at someone repeatedly.

We stumbled upon this restaurant in Old Germantown in Nashville.

It was a traditional meat 'n three. That was a new phrase for me until I met Sweet T from Tennessee. That's southern speak for a meat entree and three side items. Basically it is like eating Thanksgiving dinner regularly.

Large overwhelming amounts of fattening food does not interest me.

It was also family style, which meant that the hostess sat us with a bunch of random people we didn't know. This place wasn't exactly my scene.

T's take was the complete opposite!

This was my scene!

A lemonade cupcake wrapped up our celebration.

Flippin' Out

The landscaper and his crew arrived yesterday and cleaned up my bidness!

I am thrilled that I am no longer the weeded eyesore of the neighborhood.

They removed some sad little bushes and trimmed the others. They totally took those bushes down to the nubs. It was like my bushes got a brazilian bikini wax.

Serious grooming.

I laughed at my own snide remark as I took this picture.

I had the giggles today.

I had to stifle my overwhelming urge to laugh during pilates as I kept repeating the words

"breakdance fighting"

over and over in my head.

I'm weird.

I've been watching a lot of HGTV and Bravo lately.

This evening I discovered a show called Flippin' Out.

It stars a designer named Jeff and he is sassy with a capital S. I had seen previews and decided to try it out because I have little else to do and the clips featured a Himalayan cat.

I love those stupid creatures.

We watched an episode tonight and I loved it.

The cat is just in the background, but reminds me so much of Kashmir. I paused my DVR and took some action shots.

Sleeping between Jeff and his colleague, who I think is only employed by him because he looks like that kid from Transformers.

Resting in the sink

Drinking from the faucet.

His name is Monkey and his antics are only slightly upstaged by Zoilla, the housekeeper.

Monkey got me thinking about my original favorite TV Himalayan. In the early 90s I loved a show called Caroline in the City starring Lea Thompson. She was a cartoonist and lived with her cat, Salty. I don't think there ever has been nor will there ever be a greater name for a cat.

Tonight I got my kitty fix with Monkey and Salty.

In Town Weekend

We were actually home in Indy this weekend, which has been rare this summer. We had a little staycation in our lovely city. We went to The Ball and Biscuit on Friday evening, and I wanted to incorporate Special K into my outfit photo shoot.

I coaxed her with kitty treats.

I have duly noted the abundance of cable cords. I need to cover that mess in some way.

Precious kitty face and closed Betsy eyes.

Betsy in focus, kitty looking astray. We just can't seem to get our acts together.

T had his usual Sazerac, plus an Old Fashioned. I had two Rooftop cocktails. We chased that business with lots of cheese and crackers. They have fancy cheeses. No Ritz and Squeezy Cheese at this establishment.

On Saturday evening we met some friends at Mallow Run Winery to hear the Carmel Symphony play. We didn't hear much of the music, mostly just our own jabbering.

Jake, Brad, Kelly and Annie

It was so hot I thought I might pass out.

The wineritas I drank helped me stay alert.

That's really what they were called.

Greg and Linds came too! They got a babysitter for their son Alex.

Guess who brought the ankle biters along?

Jake!

Oh, I kid. His kids are very well behaved, cute and musically talented.

They're twins.

So angelic.

See the rays of sunlight illuminating that towheaded clan?

We supported our Indianapolis Indians on Sunday afternoon.

Hot and 90 degrees in the Circle City.

Meg indulged in some soft serve to beat the heat.

Trinity got an Indians hat on special for $12.

What a deal.

The other deal was the pink bat ballpoint pen that I desperately wanted for $3.

Trinity refused to purchase it for me.

I finally returned to use my own money.

I'm such a feminist, you know.

I used a great pun when I returned to the girl who had heard me whine to my husband about it.

"I just drove my husband batty, but then decided I could swing buying this for myself."

Brilliant.

She actually laughed.

I love puns.

The pen not only writes...

its also perfect for a sassy puss of a player.

She was not amused.

I was.

"Kashmir, there's no crying in baseball!"