Yesterday was one of those days. We both came home saying how much we had wanted to quit our jobs. At one point during my shift my only thought was I want to go home, have a drink, and fuck Terry senseless. Sounding abit crass there? Maybe, but it has been a while for us, too long we both said, mostly because of the holidays and the boy being home on school break and staying up late. We have a lock on the door, but we both agree the sex is better when we don't have to worry about the noise, or the possibility of a knock on the bedroom door. She likes to scream when she cums, and I get a little loud myself at times (one night last summer we forgot and left the window open, the one that fronts on our busy street, where people are walking by at times, and we heard comments from outside...). So last night when he FINALLY was invited to a sleep over, the look of relief on both our faces was huge... and that same look was there again later that night as well...
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One of Terry's family traditions on Christmas is to make snacks in the middle of the day, instead of having lunch. This year we had little smokies (plain and as pigs in a blanket made by Terry's older son), shrimp, veggies and dip, sweet pickles and olives, and Terry asked me to make my family's famous bean dip.
This bean dip recipe was given to my wife Kathy a few years before we were married (from Linda, a nurse she worked with) and has been made many times over the years. One of my favorite stories about the bean dip was the year she made it for my family's Thanksgiving Day dinner. The dinner was always held at my parents or uncles home (which ironically was within view of Kathy's home), and this year we were at my uncle's. The bean dip was so popular (even with my cousins) that nobody was hungry by the time the turkey was done, and my aunt was visibly upset about it and she never really warmed up to my future wife after that...
Through the years there were many times we'd have friends show up at our place when they heard the bean dip was being made, and it became my wife's signature dish (well that and the apple crisp she would make for me on special occasions).
This was only the fourth time I'd made it since Kathy died, but it turned out the best yet!
So as a belated Christmas gift to my friends that read here, I present the recipe. Enjoy!
Bean Dip
1 large can of refried beans
1 8 ounce package of cream cheese
8 ounces of sour cream
1 onion, finely chopped
1/2 package of taco seasoning
Tabasco sauce to taste (1-2 capfuls)
Mix all ingredients with a large spoon until fully blended.
Top with 1 pound of grated jack and cheddar cheese (1/2 pound of each)
Cover with foil in a 8 1/2 by 11 inch glass dish for 30 minutes at 350 degrees or until cheese is fully melted.
Serve with lots of tortilla chips.
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For New Years Eve, we'll be attending a symphony performance of Beethoven's 9th at the Martin Woldson Theater in Spokane. Terry loves the symphony and the boy and I have never gone, so it should be a treat.
I wrote a few posts back about the pending end of this blog, originally I'd planned to end it on the 3rd anniversary of this blog, then thought the end of the year, but it seems I still have some posts left in me. There are some changes coming to our little house soon and I'll write about that next year...
But for now, I'll leave you with wishes for a very happy and prosperous New Year. Cheers!
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
dream
I woke up this morning from a dream and cried. I was at some quasi like church (because everyone was sitting in white pews), and there was a game show going on of some sort. The master of ceremonies was interviewing potential players, all older elderly women with cute funny things to say it seemed, and one was sitting next to me, and I offered to hold her donut while she talked to the game show host. I remember looking at the donut, it was exactly half eaten, and blueberry frosted with sprinkles.
Then I looked back over my right shoulder and there was my mother, laying down on a pew in another room by herself, looking as she did just before she died, frail, thin, bony. She was shaking, covered in one of her super thin blankets she preferred to use and I went to her, and held her. She was crying as she told me how sorry she was for everything she had done to me (odd as I don't know what that could be, she was a good mom), and I started crying too, telling her she hadn't done anything wrong. She was still shaking, in pain, dying again in front of me. I picked her up and carried her outside, where the sun was shining and it was a beautiful warm summer day. I remember pine trees, blue skies, and a lake along a long wide paved path. Then I bought her back to the room and laid her back down on the pew, and watched her moaning and writhing in her death throes. And then I woke up.
I know why I had this dream today, because even though I hadn't consciously thought about it for a couple days, my subconscious knew. Today would have been her birthday.
Happy birthday mom, I miss you and still love you.
Then I looked back over my right shoulder and there was my mother, laying down on a pew in another room by herself, looking as she did just before she died, frail, thin, bony. She was shaking, covered in one of her super thin blankets she preferred to use and I went to her, and held her. She was crying as she told me how sorry she was for everything she had done to me (odd as I don't know what that could be, she was a good mom), and I started crying too, telling her she hadn't done anything wrong. She was still shaking, in pain, dying again in front of me. I picked her up and carried her outside, where the sun was shining and it was a beautiful warm summer day. I remember pine trees, blue skies, and a lake along a long wide paved path. Then I bought her back to the room and laid her back down on the pew, and watched her moaning and writhing in her death throes. And then I woke up.
I know why I had this dream today, because even though I hadn't consciously thought about it for a couple days, my subconscious knew. Today would have been her birthday.
Happy birthday mom, I miss you and still love you.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
3 years and merry christmas
Three years ago I started out this little adventure. I look back now at 538 posts and tens of thousands of page visits and find it a bit hard to believe so many people stopped by to read what I've written. I find it hard to believe I've written so much. I was planning on ending this blog today, I've had the final post written for a few weeks now, but I'm not quite ready yet, I have a couple more posts to tap out before riding off into the sunset...
So for now, a recap and a song for the holidaze...
Tomorrow is Terry's birthday, nothing big planned, just a nice dinner out and a friend or two tagging along. She's not big on celebrating (I think we all feel that way the older we get, right?)
We'll be cleaning the house during the day tomorrow as well, in preparation for the arrival of her two oldest children who are flying in from California on Christmas Eve. Her son is having some issues, not unlike my daughter's BF, who left me an interesting voice mail last month, and well, that's one of the topics I'm going to write about before I sign off here. Funny, as my first real post was about my daughter and her BF three years ago.
As I write this, it is snowing outside, just flurries, but hopefully it won't melt before Christmas. I've always joked about how any year that we have a green Christmas up here in the "snow country" I demand a refund... I'm sitting in our "office room" in my dad's old easy chair (don't smirk SG) watching several squirrels scamper around on our deck and the back yard as well. Terry's dog as been given the Indian name Dances With Squirrels because he loves to chase them around.
Just a couple more days of work, a very little bit of shopping to do, and two more presents to wrap. Life is good this Christmas. There could be things that would make it even nicer, but unfortunately they are beyond my control to change, and that is what it is...their loss, sadly.
It's time for me to go sell some cell phones (or babysit a store, depending on the customer flow).
I want to wish all my friends here a very Merry Christmas (or Happy Christmas to my UK and Aussie friends) and the best for a healthy and happy New Year. A special shout out to XL who is spending Christmas down under, and making me jealous as well ;)
I leave you with a warped Christmas song from my favorite movie, Love Actually.
So for now, a recap and a song for the holidaze...
Tomorrow is Terry's birthday, nothing big planned, just a nice dinner out and a friend or two tagging along. She's not big on celebrating (I think we all feel that way the older we get, right?)
We'll be cleaning the house during the day tomorrow as well, in preparation for the arrival of her two oldest children who are flying in from California on Christmas Eve. Her son is having some issues, not unlike my daughter's BF, who left me an interesting voice mail last month, and well, that's one of the topics I'm going to write about before I sign off here. Funny, as my first real post was about my daughter and her BF three years ago.
As I write this, it is snowing outside, just flurries, but hopefully it won't melt before Christmas. I've always joked about how any year that we have a green Christmas up here in the "snow country" I demand a refund... I'm sitting in our "office room" in my dad's old easy chair (don't smirk SG) watching several squirrels scamper around on our deck and the back yard as well. Terry's dog as been given the Indian name Dances With Squirrels because he loves to chase them around.
Just a couple more days of work, a very little bit of shopping to do, and two more presents to wrap. Life is good this Christmas. There could be things that would make it even nicer, but unfortunately they are beyond my control to change, and that is what it is...their loss, sadly.
It's time for me to go sell some cell phones (or babysit a store, depending on the customer flow).
I want to wish all my friends here a very Merry Christmas (or Happy Christmas to my UK and Aussie friends) and the best for a healthy and happy New Year. A special shout out to XL who is spending Christmas down under, and making me jealous as well ;)
I leave you with a warped Christmas song from my favorite movie, Love Actually.
Monday, December 14, 2009
fate
(yet another post that's been sitting in my vault from a few months back...)
Maria wrote a post a couple months back about the road not taken, and the great "what if", and as always with this subject it got me thinking...
We all have those roads we personally travel, making our own choices and decisions that shape our lives. But what about the the choices made and roads taken before we're born? We all owe our lives to people we haven't met and events that happened long before we were here.
Some we know about, and others we never will.
There are three stories my parents told me about that had they not happened, I would not be here now.
The first one was about how one of my mother's brothers (she had five) invited a new neighbor of his who was single at the time to a family get together at his house, to meet my mom who was single herself at this point. You can guess where I'm going here. Thanks Uncle Weston...
And it's funny how life works with chance (or in this case, arranged) meetings. My mom grew up in Newport Beach, California, and my dad spent part of his life doing the same, and they had told me a few times about how she worked in the local five and dime as a teenager, and my dad remembers going in there many time for purchases. They both said they had no doubts that they met back then, but never remembered it.
The second story was about the dermatologist my mom went to in the fifties to have a malignant skin melanoma removed from her knee. Back then the common course of treatment was to burn them off, like a friend of my mothers did who then ended up dying six months later because the treatment caused it to spread. But my mom's doctor went against the medical current and cut the mole out, leaving her with a large scar on her knee, but saved her life. She put flowers on that doctors grave after he passed away ever year for as long as she was able to, she was so thankful. Thanks Doc...
The last person was President Harry S. Truman, because had he not dropped the atomic bombs on Japan that ended the war, my dad had been scheduled to be in the first wave of what was called Operation Olympic, which would have been the mainland invasion of Japan. My dad's "job" was going to be to drive onshore in a jeep to "see what was there" as dad told the story. I read once that the predicted average lifespan of those first invasion soldiers was put at 1.7 seconds. Thanks Harry.
What stories of fate do you have in your past?
Maria wrote a post a couple months back about the road not taken, and the great "what if", and as always with this subject it got me thinking...
We all have those roads we personally travel, making our own choices and decisions that shape our lives. But what about the the choices made and roads taken before we're born? We all owe our lives to people we haven't met and events that happened long before we were here.
Some we know about, and others we never will.
There are three stories my parents told me about that had they not happened, I would not be here now.
The first one was about how one of my mother's brothers (she had five) invited a new neighbor of his who was single at the time to a family get together at his house, to meet my mom who was single herself at this point. You can guess where I'm going here. Thanks Uncle Weston...
And it's funny how life works with chance (or in this case, arranged) meetings. My mom grew up in Newport Beach, California, and my dad spent part of his life doing the same, and they had told me a few times about how she worked in the local five and dime as a teenager, and my dad remembers going in there many time for purchases. They both said they had no doubts that they met back then, but never remembered it.
The second story was about the dermatologist my mom went to in the fifties to have a malignant skin melanoma removed from her knee. Back then the common course of treatment was to burn them off, like a friend of my mothers did who then ended up dying six months later because the treatment caused it to spread. But my mom's doctor went against the medical current and cut the mole out, leaving her with a large scar on her knee, but saved her life. She put flowers on that doctors grave after he passed away ever year for as long as she was able to, she was so thankful. Thanks Doc...
The last person was President Harry S. Truman, because had he not dropped the atomic bombs on Japan that ended the war, my dad had been scheduled to be in the first wave of what was called Operation Olympic, which would have been the mainland invasion of Japan. My dad's "job" was going to be to drive onshore in a jeep to "see what was there" as dad told the story. I read once that the predicted average lifespan of those first invasion soldiers was put at 1.7 seconds. Thanks Harry.
What stories of fate do you have in your past?
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
trumping the bed
(yet another post that's been sitting here for a while unfinished...)
Many years back I was put up in the W Hotel in downtown Seattle for a work conference (nothing like working for a multi billion dollar company with money to burn...), and I slept in the most comfortable bed I'd ever experienced to that point in my life. You felt like you melted into the mattress and were consumed by the bedding and down comforter. And the robes the hotel had hanging in the bathroom were unlike any I'd ever worn. The whole experience was incredible.
In the years since I've compared all other beds to that one, and while some have come close, none reached the same level of the W bed. Until I stayed at the Trump International Hotel in Las Vegas this last summer. It was nirvana on a mattress all over again. And it was the nicest bed Terry said she'd ever slept in, and it began a quest for us to recreate that bed.
Before we left the hotel we inspected the bed to see how it was set up, and checked the manufacturer tags of each component. We purchased a similar queen pillow top mattress set, and over the summer added a down alternative mattress cover, then a real down pillow top on top of that, 400 count Egyptian cotton sheets, down pillows, and this fall the last piece, a down comforter.
There are some days just thinking about coming home to sleep on that bed keeps me going. At least every other night one of us makes a comment about how much we love sleeping in it. And best of all it's ours.
Many years back I was put up in the W Hotel in downtown Seattle for a work conference (nothing like working for a multi billion dollar company with money to burn...), and I slept in the most comfortable bed I'd ever experienced to that point in my life. You felt like you melted into the mattress and were consumed by the bedding and down comforter. And the robes the hotel had hanging in the bathroom were unlike any I'd ever worn. The whole experience was incredible.
In the years since I've compared all other beds to that one, and while some have come close, none reached the same level of the W bed. Until I stayed at the Trump International Hotel in Las Vegas this last summer. It was nirvana on a mattress all over again. And it was the nicest bed Terry said she'd ever slept in, and it began a quest for us to recreate that bed.
Before we left the hotel we inspected the bed to see how it was set up, and checked the manufacturer tags of each component. We purchased a similar queen pillow top mattress set, and over the summer added a down alternative mattress cover, then a real down pillow top on top of that, 400 count Egyptian cotton sheets, down pillows, and this fall the last piece, a down comforter.
There are some days just thinking about coming home to sleep on that bed keeps me going. At least every other night one of us makes a comment about how much we love sleeping in it. And best of all it's ours.
Tuesday, December 01, 2009
more art and a night shot
Back in August I said I'd share some more of my artwork once I framed it. I was a bit busy for a while, but finally finished the last piece a few weeks back. This first one is a Aboriginal painting I picked up on my first trip to Australia back in May of 2007 (hard to believe it's been that long now...). The artist is Margaret Scobie, and I liked her work from the first time I saw it. I had this stretched over a frame and wired so I can hang it any direction I please, although I believe this is the way Margaret intended it to be hung.
This piece was given to me as a gift in appreciation for some "pro bono" photography work I did (I didn't have a work visa while living in Oz), by the non profit company that Kimba worked for at the time. It took me a while to figure out how I wanted to frame it, but now it's already one of my favorite pieces and the wall it hangs on compliments it well I think.
I picked this piece up in Jerome, Arizona at an artist co-op gallery during my trip around the states last year. It is a gelee print of a photograph of white aspens and my photo of it here doesn't do it justice, you really have to see it up close to appreciate it. I picked up several other pieces on this trip that I still haven't framed yet, and also one more from my trip from Australia.
This last piece is a framing web site's re-creation of my real framed photo. I tried several ways to photograph it and none of them turned out well due to the size and placement of it (4 feet wide and hanging in the living room with way to many light sources causing problems). Please imagine it with a wider and slightly darker frame, and you'll get the idea. It is one of my favorite pictures from Australia of Uluru, and in getting the print made I found my connection to the local artist community/galleries and new photo club that I'm getting more involved with now.
Which brings me to this photo I'm working on right now (hence the watermarks on this one). My camera club went out last Sunday night with a local photographer and we did some night shooting of this artwork entitled "Light Reading".
It was challenging to shoot due to the extreme brightness of the blue neon lights in the sculpture. I did bracketing shots (seven photos spaced one f-stop apart), and then merged them in this trial version software, so I can compare it to the results using Photoshop later on.
The advantage I see so far is the ease of merging and processing the shots. This software would also make HDR photos easier to process, which is something I'm still experimenting with as well.
Oh and the part that makes me chuckle is that Photomatix has two programs within it for combining shots, and the one I found that worked best for this photo is called...Fusion..jpg)
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