What Have We Been Doing?

I didn't realize how fast this summer would go once a few key events happened. First, Casey took off for a nearly 2-week business trip to Denmark. I am a big fat weeny when it comes to being alone, so my mom graciously came to visit for just over a week. Rachel came to play, too! We had a stinking pile of fun, and Gavin was really happy to have people other than his mom to associate with - and who better to have with you than two of your very favorite people? I'll make Casey post some pictures from Denmark soon.

Second, we drove up to the annual Hardy family reunion in the White Mountains of Arizona. Highlights: Gavin got to be around fun cousins, bonfires were a stinking pile of fun, we got ticketed for swimming, a pregnant woman survived a camping trip without plumbing...or showering (sorry for the over-share), we learned that Gavin gets a little carsick, and we made it back in one piece.

Third: Casey's high school reunion. What a whirlwind trip that was! We flew to Colorado on a Wednesday and went straight to the lake for some water skiing. Thursday morning dawned and we drove up to Elitch's in Denver for some water/amusement park fun. We thoroughly exhausted our child by this time, and we still had more than half the trip to go! Friday was a blur of shopping and preparing for said reunion (did I mention that Casey was his class president and hence the organizer of said reunion? Why oh why did I look for that over-achieving, ambitious type? Why couldn't I have been satisfied with Potbelly Pat whose goal in life was to stuff as many Doritos in his mouth without choking as possible? I shot myself in the foot for aiming high, that's for sure) and a lovely time to follow when we began to reap the fruit of Casey's labors.

Friday evening was an opportunity for me to meet all the people Casey went to school with, and it was nice to connect faces with names I had previously only heard. Since I am the ONLY member of Casey's family to have not married his/her high school sweetheart, this prevents me from being a part of many family conversations where catching up on ol' Berthoud, CO people occurs. Maybe that's how Casey feels when my family and I chat about Reno/Sparks friends! In any case, the best part of the evening was noticing that everyone thought as highly of my husband as I do. He may have changed a bit physically and geographically, but he has always been a genuine, honest, fun, intelligent, hard-working, loyal person with a wealth of friends. Maybe aiming high has its benefits.

Saturday was Part 2 of the reunion - a BBQ in the park. Thanks SO much to Casey's primary reunion committee, namely Cheryl and Jay Jacobs, who were not only behind the scenes but right in there cooking and visiting with the people they got to know years ago. Thanks also to all of Casey's friends who spent so much time and effort helping out with the reunion - I wish I could name you all, but I'm sure I don't know the complete list of helpers! The food was great, the atmosphere jolly, and the party was finally over. I only say finally because my cankles at the end of the day were grateful to be put at rest.

Sunday was our day of rest, family, and good birthday food (Cheryl's birthday) to include fried chicken and mashed potatoes. Getting to visit with our family was truly the highlight of our trip, and we miss everyone so much. Thanks for all you did and do for us on a regular basis (especially our chauffeur, Courtnee!), and thanks for picking up the slack for a fat lady who sings.

Mom's new cut and color!
At Firebirds Rocky Mountain Grill
Making crummy cinnamon rolls...but having fun in the process!
Incriminating "swimming" photo
Action photo - volleyball game
I may not take a good picture, but how else will we know who his mother is?
On the steps of Grandpa and Grandma's motor home, ready for skiing
Elitch's
Is this what heaven looks like to a boy?
He absolutely couldn't take anymore. I wanted to do the same, but forgot my stroller.

I love this boy

Complaining

I feel like I use this blog as an outlet for complaining. This is not good. I have SO much to be thankful for, and I'd like to share a few of my thoughts:

I never want to forget the sound of baby laughter. Oh sure, Gavin might be 2, but I still (and probably always will) consider him my baby. I love listening to him break into peals of laughter over the silliest things - Mr. Noodle on Sesame Street, putting pants on his head (he's entering the silly stage in which objects put in the wrong place are hilarious), running down the hall after Daddy, being thrown in the air or tickled by Daddy, etc. I think many of the world's problems would be solved if everyone could have access to the sound of a child laughing on a regular basis.

We ate a vegetable dish made entirely of vegetables from our garden last night! Zucchini, summer squash, and cherry tomatoes sauteed in olive oil and sprinkled with fresh chives (also from the garden) and garlic salt. Delicious. AND victorious. (See previous complaining posts for more information about our foray into gardening in balmy Tucson.)

As scary as it can be, I like to watch the monsoon rains. As long as I am safely in my home and not stuck in the rain or flooding somewhere, I feel very grateful that the rains water my garden and water the desert. The lighting storms can be fantastic, and the sunset under dark clouds is beautiful. It makes me want to take up oil painting again. Someday!

Boy do I love blueberries. Thank you, Thomas Jefferson, for mainstreaming such a delicious summer berry for America to indulge in.

I've actually grown to somewhat enjoy the Elmo in Grouchland movie. No, really - it has its own comedic charm and a few jokes only adults would understand. As long as I must watch it a few times per week, I might as well enjoy it!

I am SO thankful my mom and sister came to stay with and help me while Casey spent two weeks in Denmark. I miss them.

I am SO thankful Casey is home from Denmark!

I love homemade whole wheat bread and homemade strawberry jam. If there are two things that make me feel like June Cleaver or Betty Crocker, it would be these two. I could sure use an apron from Anthropologie to complete the picture, though. Oh, and a string of pearls.

And last but not least, I really am grateful to be pregnant.

3 Sides of Gavin

Smart (lining toys up, just like Uncle Reed used to)

Silly
Sweet

Reality Check

I miss artsy fartsy stuff. I used to attend symphonies, ballets, operas, art museums, and other associated cultural locales on a regular basis. Tonight I heard an Impressionist piece by Satie that I fell in love with and decided to share with my husband. As we listened to the soothing, simple sounds of solo piano wafting through the computer screen, I was taken away to that place where only classical music can take me - a refuge, a retreat; a fantasy...which was shortly broken with the loud sound of Farty Farterson at my side, who promptly brought me back to the reality of my own day-to-day personal symphony. Eat your heart out, Satie.

How Does Your Garden Grow?

Our garden looks like the withered, dried-up dreams of a hopeless housewife with delusions of grandeur only matched by the greatness of her reality check.

Translation: I am locked in an epic battle to encourage at least ONE THING in our garden to flourish to the point of harvest.

On the good side: good soil, organic mulch, consistent watering, pruning, staking, protection from birds via a clever PVC pipe and net structure; biodegradable pest spray, the planting of marigolds to ward off bugs, and the fact that I let the little garden spiders do their job. If you know me and my arachnophobia, you know this is a big deal for me. I delight in watering every day. I cheer the resident praying mantis and the lady bugs I saw on the plants one day. I pluck the few cherry tomatoes I can with joy. I cut twigs of thyme, cilantro and basil as needed.

On the EVIL side: dry, browning plants; yellowing and curling of tomato leaves; the tomatoes won't set any more fruit (does a 2 1/2 tomato ratio to 8 plants strike you as wrong? One plant already full on withered and died), half of the seeds I planted never sprouted; there are ants, whiteflies, grasshoppers, leaf hoppers, other crappy plant-eating bugs, it is way too hot and sunny, and now...the gopher. At least, I think it's a gopher.

Do you remember the flat top hair styles of the '80's? Picture this as a good analogy for how my string beans look. One day they were bushy and flowering, and the next day they had been cut - chopped, rather - in half. Chopped. The peppers were the next to suffer missing appendages, and I have no clue why the little rodent isn't eating the other things. Picky, I guess.

I can't stand it. After everything we have suffered, we now have a RODENT to deal with! I wanted so badly to reap the rewards of a good harvest, and I am now reaping despair and anger.

I should have seen it coming. For a few days as I watered I saw evidence of a critter in the garden, but only in the shifting of soil and a few attempted holes. This went on for a few days without any of the plants being touched, and I started to almost feel violated, like the least he could do was take a few bites and not just be a sort of garden voyeur. He works at night and we have never seen him, causing deep speculation on our part as to what exactly "he" is. Then, he made his move: the bird netting was chewed through, the plants chopped straight like a mini rodent chainsaw had hit them, and my basil was absolutely decimated. DECIMATED. No one messes with my basil without consequences.

We knew we had to do something and do it quickly because every night the damage increased and more hair was pulled from my head in rage and fits of insanity. It's expensive to start a garden, and since the yield was oh, a few peppers and a handful of cherry tomatoes thus far, we knew we hadn't a lot of time. I started searching online for pest control companies, and thinking it might be a pack rat due to former comments by my neighbor (who, by the way, grows her garden with the greenest of thumbs. All she does is breathe on them and *poof* - nice, plump tomatoes, firm zucchini, and an all-you-can-eat-without-barfing-for-jealousy smorgasbord is yours to enjoy.), I indicated to Pat the pest control guy that this might be the case.

Pat graciously came and did a free inspection, and after he quickly ruled out pack rats, I breathed a sigh of relief (they are notoriously hard to get rid of and come on, they are rats) mingled with a deep-set hatred for our new culprit, a gopher or ground squirrel, and set out to eradicate the threat. After all, I now have a species to go with the damage. You have to know your enemy before you can properly fight it.

I really wish there were fewer pest control companies who sympathize with humane ways to get rid of pests, too. Strange that I couldn't locate any companies when I Googled, "horrible, painful ways to kill/maim/destroy/blow up/go after the relatives and posterity of gophers and other associated rodents." I could only come up with a few local chat spots with people asking how to get rid of the same, but the answers from the local yokels were more like the ramblings of one who sat in front of the computer screen all day playing Star Wars online and learning how to improve on the ol' burning bag of poo trick. Thanks for your help, guys.

Okay, okay, so my true colors come out. No, I am not trying to have charity for the vermin because I feel a deeper connection to the plants I have lovingly cared for since their births and who now sport fades worse than the entire cast of "The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air." If someone makes your babies look ugly, there is no mercy.

Priceless Moment

Casey was kneeling on the floor and leaning over the couch the other day after playing with Gavin, just hanging out while I was doing something in the kitchen (probably eating, my true constant). Casey proceeded to pass gas in his usual loud fashion, and I said to Gavin, "Daddy's stinky!" Gavin went over to Casey, pulled up the back of his shirt, tried to look down Casey's pants and said, "Diaper change?" Priceless.

Green-Eyed Monster

Has anyone seen my manners? I promise I had them a few weeks ago, but the weekend Casey's family was in town, I seem to have misplaced them. They must be somewhere with my dignity, which I have also misplaced.

See, I thought I could handle coming home from a 2-week trip to my parents' home and have only 1 day to prepare for a house full of company, and as it turns out, I couldn't. Oh sure, the house was cleaned (except my bedroom, which remained a complete disaster of the no-floor-space kind; this is where Gavin learned the word "disaster" and how to say it with a concerned and semi-dejected expression, just like his Mommy. I had hoped no one would enter the bedroom and see the explosion of neglect and lack of time, but who am I kidding?), the grocery shopping done (although I need to remember to stock up on the condiments next time, namely syrup and crunchy peanut butter - oh yeah, and soda...I mean, "pop"), fresh whole wheat bread just out of the oven, and I was ready for a weekend of fun and family.

What I didn't count on was that I would become a total monster for the duration of the weekend. Irritability, sulkiness, feelings of being neglected and un-complimented, the lack of desire to watch any more baseball...you name it, I WAS it. This may seem like a cop-out explanation, but I completely blame hormones. Ladies, most of you are "regular" gals who deal with this on a monthly basis, but being a woman in the body of a small, pre-adolescent choir boy renders me quite inexperienced with a regular hormone influx. Call me ridiculous, but this is the type of interaction that ensued:

Casey: That shirt looks nice on you, honey.

Brittny: You know, I'm feeling rather self-conscious right now and would rather you not say anything. (Retreat to kitchen to begrudgingly make meal.)

(Later) Brittny: Casey, you're not even giving me the time of day! I'd appreciate some more attention, here!

Casey, gingerly: Uh, the last time I tried that you shot me down pretty quick.

Brittny: What are you talking about? You've barely said one nice thing to me all day, much less talked to me.

Casey: I tried earlier to tell you that you looked nice and you told me not to say that.

Brittny: (With gradual realization of the sheer stupidity of her actions)...Oh...yeah...

While I certainly was in the throes of moodiness and teenage-like self-pity, I truly appreciate the actions of our family members who were nothing if not gracious as ever. Thank you, Cheryl, Jay, Cam, Jen, Trent, for over-looking my actions and determining to have a good time despite my lack of trying to help the process along. I promise to bequeath myself to the nearest trailer park should another hormonal episode like this try to creep up in the remotest sense and rain on our family shindig parade.

Lest you think there was no fun to be had, let me reassure you that there were bright points. We went to the Pima County Fair with Grandpa and Grandma where we enjoyed looking at the animals and eating a funnel cake (who goes to the fair for any other reason?). When Cam, Jen and Trent came, we hung out, went to the park and pool a few times, had a little birthday celebration for Gav, watched copious amounts of baseball, went to Golf 'N Stuff for the water bumper boats and batting cages, and had an encounter with an extremely obnoxious red-haired waitress. (Not Cheryl.) We loved getting together with everyone and hope that we can continue to help Gavin and his younger cousin get to know each other! We love and miss you all!

Grandpas are AWESOME
So telling.
No, Trent is not nursing - he's sleeping!

Warning! Action photos to follow: