Tag Archives: Photo

The Happy Update: Chock Full of iPhone Photos!

The last surgery for our beloved family member was on Monday.  It could not have gone better!

Now if life will simply revert back to Plan A, we’ll be back on our horsey track soon!  Thanks for hanging in with us.

We stuffed the week before the surgery with all kinds of goodies, especially visual ones. (Eye surgery: you’d wake up seeing…or not.) The need to view gorgeousness called for a trip to the ocean on Coleman Valley Road.  If you are ever in Northern California, and are not intimidated by drives that some describe as harrowing, write me, and I’ll tell you how to find the road.  Usually only travelled by locals and Lance Armstrong-type bicyclists.

We saw:

and:

Then we got back in the car for more:

We ended up here, at Coleman Beach:

We did not walk down to the “beach” (Air quotes: reflect lack of sand, level of wave danger, and absurd amount of jagged rocks) because the path fell off. Literally.

Sadly, our govenor cut the parks budget, so there is no “You Are About to Fall to An Untimely Death” sign.

From there, we drove to The Dog House for the best hotdogs EVer (and all you can eat fries!). Then back to Bodega Head, where we climbed the cliff below.

Pictured is the only section not bristling with binoculors, sunhats, chairs, zoom lenses and folding tables holding whale bones. (It’s whale watching season.) One of the kids innocently (uh-huh) pointed at a far rock submerged in the ocean and said “Look! A whale!!!”, giving about 50 people instant whiplash.

Looking down:

FYI, those are house sized rocks, not whale sized rocks.

Looking to the right:

A wonderful day, a wonderful outcome, a good life!

Jane’s Hiring: Must Be Good With Convolution, One-Trackness, and Brain Routing

My friends are  professionally accomplished, and have big important jobs.  Using classic Under-Achiever logic, I feel I don’t need to do more with my life, because they are doing so much. It’s kind of like I’m achieving by association. (Keep up the good work, guys! I like feeling important.)

The big important jobs happen in the big important city. Super Achieving friends have major commute. Months-without-sleep kind of commutes.

They never whine. I never hear about freezing at the bus stop at 3 am or the four hours a day some friends spend driving back and forth to their jobs.

I’m only on day three of driving back and forth to San Francisco. (I do not get to call it a commute: by the time I hit the freeway, everyone is finally up to the speed limit, I have an “ish” arrival time, and I do not have to apply mascara at an ungodly hour.) Annoyingly, I still want to whine.

I don’t have to be functional when Tokyo comes online. I just have to stay in my lane.

The Under-Achiever in me feels super important about how well I stay in my lane.

Re-wiring issue #1: No Whining.  I think we all understand why it’s imperative to keep Jane from whining about the drive. She’d like to keep her friendships.

Re-wiring issue #2: Because my usual commute involves a short hallway and bunny slippers, my brain believes driving to San Francisco is a Road Trip.  If you regularly follow this blog, you immediately know why this is a bad thing.  If my brain continues to send out Mayday “Road Trip” signals, I will never fit into my skinny jeans again.

Yesterday I needed more caffeine to keep up my excellent lane-management skills.  I stopped at a gas station for a diet Coke. Twenty-seven seconds of aisle-frenzy later, I was sitting in my car staring at a candy bar (love),  vinegar potato chips (hate), a pack of gum (?) and a diet Coke. All for the low, low gas station price of fifteen bucks.

Amend the above: if I don’t stop the Road Trip mentality, I will be fat and broke. I yell at my brain.

Jane: This is not a Road Trip!

Brain: I know. Sheesh. What was THAT all about?

Jane: Um. Shouldn’t you know what that was all about?

Brain: Nope. Sorry. Take it to a shrink. Not my job.

Jane: C’mon! You’re the brain, you’re in charge!

Brain: Hello. Obviously I am not in charge.  Look down.  Vinegar chips.  9:30 am.  I rest my case.

I have to concede the point. It knows I don’t like vinegar potato chips. In fact, I can’t remember my brain ever suggesting I buy them.

Help!

IT Position: Laid back company with “ish” mentality, welcomes driven, proven, IT managers with systems routing experience. Must have current psychotherapy license, sense of humor, patience, and strong “Mother says NO” attitude capabilities. Fast reflexes a must: light duty cellophane bag snatching is required.  Salary commensurate with results.

Any takers…?

Life Trumps Us Again…

It’s been one of those weeks.  This morning’s highlights:

  1. I got an email from Jill (? I don’t know anyone named Jill).  I read further. Oh, Jill Biden, the Vice President’s wife.  And I’ve never met her!  How nice is that?
  2. Her email asked me if I’d like to sign Michelle’s birthday card. Dang.  I think she has me mixed up with someone else. Who is Michelle? I don’t know any Michelles.

A brain cell politely knocks on my gray matter.

She wants me to sign Mrs. Obama’s birthday card, and thinks I know her well enough to call her Michelle!  Well of COURSE I’m going to sign. And add my personal message.  Via a mass emailing to random democrats. Who cares? I’ll say happy birthday to the first lady, especially when invited by the second lady. Whoa. Someone in the White House knows I exist.

I’ve been seeing a lot of this over the last few days.  It’s winter.  No fog in San Francisco!

Our weird spring weather has finally stolen away.  I was patting myself on the back yesterday for replacing Hudson’s winter blanket.  He sure was going to need it. Bella said she’d cover his care for me.  I’m all set. It’s supposed to be 20 degrees tonight.

Something is nagging at me.  What is it, Lassie? The blanket? Yup, all set.  Where is the blanket? Why, it’s…Uh-oh.  For reasons known only to that poor brain cell, I threw the blanket back in the trunk of my car, after checking the fit. (I’m sure it was heat stress. Who needs a heavy winter blanket when it’s almost 70 degrees?)

Hudson is about 2 hours north of this picture.

It was a pretty drive.

It’s going to be a pretty drive today too.

But at least Hudson has this:

(We are experiencing a slight delay in programming. Translation: you may see some preeeeeety stupid stuff up here until I get it together!)

Murphy Monday: In Which Mt. Murphy is Climbed at the Endurance Barn of Our Dreams

Murphy is now at Sonoma Coastal Equestrian Center, aka the Perfect Endurance Barn.

Daisy dubbed the ‘hill’ up to the summer foal pasture: “Mt. Murphy”.

It’s not really a hill. It’s a stair master set to an incline of 10 and strewn with rocks.  A month of climbing that every day will whip the most out of shape rider into being able to ride two-point, no stirrups, for hours.

First, you have to hike down to the gate.  It’s an endurance barn: there’s no starting from the parking lot. You have to hike to the beginning.

We wheezed our way up the hill.

Note the big boulder on left: reference point. Also, so we have perspective on scale, those are  adult horses.

Above looks fairly level after the gate.  FYI, it’s not.

Below is looking back at the barn, before we hit the California live-oak lined section…

…that’s the section where the stair master hits 300,  and we want to flag down a Cable Car. (Totally worth the five bucks.)

Oops, sorry, I was hallucinating. Ran out of electrolytes.

We see this:

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Murphy Monday: Hey! I Resemble You!

Murphy meets Daisy’s niece:

Mom! Mom mom mom mom…LOOK, a mini human! Aren’t they cute?!? Can I have it? Pleeeeeeaze mommy…it followed me home.  I don’t think it has a place to live. Can it live with us? Pleeeze mom, can I keep it, pleeeeeeze…?

Aw dang it.  I wanted a pet. Oh well.  Mom says they can visit.

And here’s a picture of me and mom, I think we look alike, except I’m handsomer, because I’m a guy:

Mom and Son, Photo taken by Bella’s Mom