Weekending

A rainy weekend in Napa - is there anything better?

My first stop was to see this little fella...who looks nothing short of adorable in this little yellow rain jacket. Don't you agree?

*I wondered what he was doing in the bottom right picture and then I realized he was mimicking his crazy Tante with the camera in her face. Clever little lad.

We had planned on a long walk, but upon arrival Ever kept repeating, "it's raining, Tante!" I nearly died each time he said it and had to try very hard to keep my composure.

So we opted for story time instead...

And then a drive. Behold, the many faces of sweet, sweet Ever. I couldn't pick just one! Can you blame me?




We ventured to Whole Foods for lunch, but Ever had a hard time waiting, so we munched on an apple as we strolled through the aisles...



Saturday night is for sister mischief. I really have no words for these photos other than, my sisters are rad. We headed up Partrick Road in search of rebobs. We didn't find any, but we did have a pretty killer photo shoot in the road. And I have no idea what I was doing with my mouth in these pictures. And my sisters are fierce.

Aside from fun with babies and rebobs, the main purpose of my weekend visit was to celebrate this girl's birthday...

*photo circa 2007 but a classic in my mind.

My Emily. Well I guess I should say "our Emily", although in a perfect world I would have her all to myself. Anyway, she is as fun and cute and silly and wild and loyal as she looks. She has a hilarious, tough exterior but her heart is still like a child's: pure and sweet. She is the only girl in our family to wind up with our Daddy's blue eyes and she is the only one who can sing like a bird. Actually, more like Carrie Underwood. She can rock dark hair or blond. She doesn't shy away at the sight of blood. She likes eyeliner but also likes mud. She can make me laugh like A LOT. And now she is 23. My baby sister is 23. But to me, I think she always be eight, with ginormous sky blue eyes, pouty (in a good Angelina way) lips, singing "Katie and Tommy" on the porch.

So we celebrated. At Casa de Awesome, of course. We enjoyed delicious lemon shrimp pasta, Mom's homemade ice cream cake, football, a fire and maybe a cocktail or two.

We sang happy birthday to you and she blew out her candle and all was right with the world.

I wonder what she wished for?



I, on the other hand, just wished for a happy year for this girl.

And I have a feeling she will get just that.

melt my heart

I am such a sucker for this man. Especially when he walks through the door all tall and mighty, sporting his work clothes. In my younger days, I used to think it was all about the boots, jerseys or uniforms, but there is somethin' so refined and subtly sexy about the "suit and tie". It might be in the details: buttons, belts, skinny shoelaces, or maybe its just the way he sloppily loosens his tie, all the while having no idea of how handsome he looks.



And once he steps into our little domain, the first thing he does is kiss me hello, inquire about food and then he want to know where our naughty little feline daughter is hiding. He does his kitty "call", she comes running and they meet up for a post-work/post-nap cuddle.

And then they both just get cuter.

I watch his face finally relax after a long day, she purrrrrs and I just sit and melt.



What will happen to me when someday instead of a furry feline there is a real little baby human in those manly arms of his? Will I survive the utter cuteness? Will my heart beat right out of my chest?

I am concerned...

day tripper

saturday we woke with the sun and jumped in the car. the night before we had whispered about getting away for the day...i am so crazy for a spontaneous car ride, leaving with no real destination in mind. it speaks to me. and makes me giddy.

what's a road trip without some brew...of the coffee type, of course.

we headed southbound passing crops and cows and soon we passed this sign: and because i have no sense of direction, this is when i realized we were headed west bound...or as i call it, seaside bound. the giddiness only escalated.

the clouds began to part...

blue skies smilin' at me, nothin' but blue skies, do i see...yes, i sang. not well, however.

i am all for a cloudy day at the beach, i may prefer it in fact, but only when rain does not limit the amount of hours i can stroll, prance and comfortably rest in the sand.

to help the miles pass, we played twenty questions. i still laugh remembering how ryan guessed abraham lincoln in five guesses and then for his turn he chose a "thing" for me to guess. and he picked a "litter box". wow. needless to say, i didn't guess it in twenty questions but we laughed for a long time. maybe you had to be there.

we made it! self-portrait number one:

we walked slowly, no where to be..and we breathed deeply, enjoying the heavy sea air.

we stopped at this little gem of a store and we bought two new latte bowls in "ocean blue". ryan said that every time we eat cereal out of those bowls these we will be reminded of our day by the sea where we celebrated four years of us. well said.

i nearly died at this packaging and stopped myself from buying all six...christmastime is my happy place, but not before halloween.

a stop to rest our dogs and sip some blue moon...





and then onto the beach for the sunset show.









self-portrait numero dos:

ay, ay captain!

don't be fooled by this tough guy stare...he is just one big softie.

did you know? big foot ale is back!

i will never have good beach hair- i have begrudgingly accepted it. but i like this picture only because ryan thought to take it and i think i look how i felt at this moment...complete peace of mind.

we could hardly pull ourselves away...but the long car ride home beckoned.

and we turned our backs to the sinking sun refreshed and with that feeling of enough- like we had done everything we came for and it was ok that it was over. that is rare for me but when it happens - i love it.

it was a...

pumpking carving

chili making

first ever pumpkin pie baking

trick-or-treating

too much candy left over

and jack-o-lantern...

kind of halloween.

tomato soup {not from a can}

have never made it. and I thought it was time. so last week, after a quick stop at corti brothers, and a few runs to the living room to see the Giant's woop some bootie in the fifth inning (woot, woot!), i was well on my way to warm, homemade tomato soup, courtesy of the nordstrom friends and family cookbook. fancy schmancy!




all those chopped carrots stained my fingers and the onions really got the tears flowing. but its cool, they were happy tears. and basil...oh how i love thee.

*side note: apparently, san mazano tomatoes are all the rage and their price tag was a bit more than i anticipated. i was on my bike, had only brought cash and was a dollar short. "no big thang" the kind teen aged cashier said, "just bring it next time". my mouth gaped open: i didn't think people and stores like that still existed.

i gushed sincere gratitude and offered to just put the wine back (luckily that he refused). after repeating, "thank you!" about fifty million times i scurried out the door with a flushed, red face that matched those san mazano tomatoes. but my heart sure was warmed by that small gesture.

anyway, back in the comfort of my own kitchen, my face had returned to its normal hue (which is still pretty red) and i got busy. but sometimes a break is necessary for the creative spirit...

something about cooking and red wine. they belong together. like cinderella and prince charming. or cookies and milk.

it took six batches in the food processor to puree all that soup. but clicking that "pulse" button and watching it's magic is addicting. i may have over-pureed. but is there really such a thing when it comes to soup?

and cream...oh cream-it added an incredible richness and texture and layers of...who am i kidding, i don't even know what i am talking about-cream based soups are just better. enough said. I liked the color transformation too.

dinner for one in a mug...

a huge ziploc full in the freezer waiting for a cold, lazy day...


and a pot, half-full of soup, simmering away on the stove, just waiting for a specific mister to arrive home and slurp it up.

and trust me, *slurp* he does.