Archive for September, 2007

The Ball

Well, the vast majority of the pictures were disappointing, but here is the requisite documentation of their majesty’s royal ball:

Kerr’s and Franklin’s all dolled up.

Feed us.

Get your Strauss on!

Sarah. Sweetie.

Anna’s happy ending.


And now, must sleep. My feet are killing me! Happy Sixth, big girls!


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Summer, Winter, Fall

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I’ll Stick with Tahoe.

Okay, this wins the award for Freakiest News Story Ever, hands down:

6 Die from Brain-eating Amoeba in Lakes

Yeah. I swam in Lake Havasu. My godparents own property there. Amoebae eat people’s brains there.

And Texas! Every time we talk about moving to Austin, I complain, “But we’d be so landlocked!” And Jason consoles me with descriptions of all the beautiful lakes he used to visit. Ahem.

I know the chances of being eaten by a great white in Ventura are probably greater than the chances of being eaten by amoebae in Austin, but death by shark seems much more pleasant. Maybe it’s just me.

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I Love Fall!

But Fall is not. A week ago it was summer. Today I drove home in a snowstorm. Welcome to the Sierra Nevadas!

Sprinkler. Former use: lawn hydration. Current use: hose marker.

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Today I am the mother of two six-year-old girls.

When they were infants, it felt like the first year would never pass.

Now they’re six. Six.

I’m getting a wee bit freaked out.


On Saturday, Anna and Sarah will throw a royal ball. They listened to their birthday cd in the van this morning, and as The Blue Danube began to play, Sarah shouted, “Now that is ball music!”

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Jenn and my husband conspired to rescue me from the most depressing birthday ever. She came over shortly after Jason arrived home from work, and she fed my children and put them to bed. Meanwhile Jason and I ate steak and prawns and, for dessert, played chess at Starbucks. It was a very happy end to what might have been a most unhappy day. My heroes.

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Almost 30

It’s official. I have exactly two years left until the crushing weight of adulthood crashes down upon me. Meh.

These, in case anyone cares to know, are the things I have yet to do:

  1. Finish the novel.
  2. Publish the short fiction.
  3. Publish the kid book.
  4. Send anything off for publication (except for a baby book that clearly has no market anywhere).
  5. Start the MFA at Cornell with emphasis in Faulkner.
  6. Deliver the sixth child (maybe).
  7. Quilt the basted quilts.
  8. Learn Latin.
  9. Read the rest of Austen and the Bronte’s.
  10. Honeymoon on Prince Edward Island.
  11. Teach English in China, with my freakishly enormous American family.
  12. Make my husband a corduroy quilt.
  13. Take a family vacation.
  14. Organize photos.
  15. Organize anything.
  16. Adopt a puppy.

Now if I can just tackle a few of those, maybe thirty won’t seem so grim.

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