We're not in Kansas Anymore, Toto.

The dogs are alright. *

I'm not terribly good at taking pictures. I've not actually owned a camera of my own since my parents bought me a cheap little Kodak in the 80's. But now that I have a camera in my phone, I take pictures all the time. They are mostly for me to remember a moment, or document something, and share with friends and family on Facebook or via text or some other such nonsense. My point is, I take a lot of shitty pictures, and I really don't care, because they're for me.

Like this one. Max is loving have a BFF. They are tired at the end of each day, and so glad to see each other in the morning. Sometimes they play fight, jumping and attacking and chasing, but in this moment, they were just laying next to each other in the shade. He will miss his buddy when we get home, I presume. The two labs have each other, Max will go back to having just his people to entertain him. It should be interesting to see what happens.

I take pictures of my dog all the time, but they rarely come out very well. It's hard to take a photo of a black dog with black eyes when you don't know what you're doing. This one I managed to mess around with in iPhoto to clarify his features a little bit. Blonde dogs are much easier to photograph.

We are coming upon our last weekend here at the beach. I feel pretty good that we've done everything we wanted to do, seen everyone we needed to see, except of course the people whose home we are staying in while they travel in Europe. I think it's been weird for Drew to sleep in his buddy's bed every night but not actually spend more than a few hours with him on this trip.

Next Wednesday we take this show back on the road, two adults, two kids and a giant poodle in the family truckster. I'm kind of ready to go home again. I love this town, I love the beach, I love the lifestyle. But we have things to do. My grandmother is not doing well, I miss her. I need to see her before I miss her forever. We need to start getting ready for school and soccer and work and other post-vacation necessities. But it's been lovely, truly lovely to chill out here at the beach, where shoes are optional and the wine is plenty, the dogs are welcome on the patio, and the temperature hasn't reached 76 degrees the entire time. That...doesn't suck.

My life is good. I am thankful.

 

* Grammar Girl comments on the use of "alright" . I choose to use it anyway. Hey, at least I'm informed.

 

Meet the roommates.

One of the reasons we're able to stay so long on this beach vacation to San Diego is because we're housesitting, and our hotel stays have been minimal and mostly while on the road. Part of the housesitting deal involves two loveable labradors, Ada and Wooten. Max is having the time of his life, playing, lounging, eating, sleeping, playing some more, he hardly notices whether I'm in the room or not - normally he follows me around.

This is Wooten. We call him Woo Tang Lab, or sometimes, Taz. He is a hurtling hunk of blonde love, but not much ambition.

 

This is Ada. We call her Eeyore. That should be pretty clear. I'd say her slowness and empty eyed stare is because she is old, but she's been that way since she was a puppy. She also snores, louder than any men in the house. However, it's her house. She runs the show from the corner of the sofa, and has only to lift a lazy eye in his general direction to make Woo Tang Lab get up and move. It's like telepathy for dogs.

Max mostly ignores Ada, and she happily ignores him, unless he's in her spot, and then she just lumbers over and stares at him quietly until he gets uncomfortable and moves. He likes Wooten much more. Wooten actually plays with him, sometimes. But even after a few minutes of chase Wooten gets tired and goes for a nap, whilst Max is the Energizer Bunny of tennis ball playing. He is a little OCD about the BALL GET THE BALL OMG THROW THE BALL!

A rare moment of calm.

 

I'd sort of forgotten what it was like having dogs that shed. The hair is merciless, I vaccuum every day.

Did I mention the dogs are used to being fed at 5:30am? It's okay if you're not awake yet, they will happily lick you until you get up to feed them. The boys have taken to sleeping with their doors shut so the dogs don't wander in and take over the bed in the middle of the night like a 75 lb. drunk neighbor in the wrong house, then demand breakfast at 5:30am. That leaves me. 

Which is all fine. They are sweet and snuggly and I don't even mind the early morning wake up calls, all the more fine to enjoy these beach living days for as long as I can get them.

 

40, Love.

My husband turned 40 yesterday. We met and became instantly inseparable 21 years ago this fall, over half our lives we've been together. He is an amazing father, an excellent grillmaster, and he is my best friend. He also snores, loudly. I don't really care. I know just the right way to poke him to make him roll over without waking him up, so it's all good.

He hates this blog, I think I've mentioned that. But he probably won't mind that this time I've used it to celebrate him, and to say, I love you, babe.

In 110 degrees (dry heat, my ass, it's just heat) he walked with his boys across the Hoover Dam while I sat in the air conditioned car with the dog, on the driving trip I forced him to take. I should be so lucky to have him, for another 40 years.

 

PS: and by yesterday, I mean Sunday. Apparently I've lost all track of time. Must be the sand in my ears. 

 

Friday Wine Goodness: Griswald Style

We are on a road trip right now, from Kansas to California. Two adults, two kids, one giant poodle and a crap load of Apple products.

Yes, we are crazy. But I still have wine, so I'm good.

 

What? The bottle didn't fit in the cooler.

Catch you on the flipside, my friends.