Tales of Me and the Husband

sunglasses shop giveaway: ray-ban aviators!

is there a frame more classic than the aviator??
you’d be hard-pressed to find one, say i!
not only are they classic, but they work on nearly everyone’s face.
and, well, summertime’s upon us, guys + gals (or gals, 
because i’m not sure there are many of you guy readers).
so you want to win this pair from sunglasses shop?
enter below! 
{open worldwide!  woohoo!}
mandatory:
+ visit sunglasses shop on facebook, like them, 
and write “tales of me and the husband” sent you over!
then come back here and leave a comment w/ your email address!
optional:
{each one gets a separate comment!}
+ tweet about the giveaway and leave url!
+ follow me on twitter
+ follow sunglasses shop on twitter
+ pin an above photo or a fave pair from the sunglasses shop!
up to 5 possible entries, ya’ll!
giveaway closed.  
heidi is the winner!
this post is sponsored by sunglasses shop.

father’s day.

this man has so many offspring we can’t even get a decent picture with all of them!  so, this will have to do.  missing: nathaniel and parker.  but you probably knew that.  moving on.  honestly, i’m not just tootin’ his horn because it’s father’s day.  this man is a great father.  he pretty much always puts his kids needs before his own which, i’d argue, is the quintessential part of being a parent.  i don’t always have it down, but he does.  he teaches me, all the time, just by example.  he’s not afraid to apologize to them either.  he’s self-reflective and thinks things through and is gracious and kind.  sometimes he loses his temper but, um, hello, we’re outnumbered big time.  anyway, i’m a huge steve-fan.  so glad he’s ours in this crazy life thing.

and to my own dad!  where do i begin?  really glad god blessed me with you.  i’ve learned so much from you.  you’ve always been an affectionate dad and you give some of the greatest hugs of all time.  there’s a lot of things i love about you but for the sake of time i’ll mention just a few: the pride that shows in both your voice and your face when you talk about your daughters.  your work ethic.  money wasn’t always flowin’ while we were growing up but your spirit was never dampened nor was your determination.  and thank you for taking me on several camping trips.  goodness, we’ve camped a lot together, huh?  i’m glad i’m a camper, thanks to you and our many father-daughter trips.

i’ve got some good men in my life, no doubt about it.
happy father’s day!

I’d rather be kind than right.

Steve told me this line he’d heard recently.  I’d rather be kind than right.  I was like, “That’s it!  It’s the perfect one!”  I usually use, and overuse, “Live and let live” or, “To each his own” but this one, well this one was perfect.  I’d rather be kind than right.  It’s perfect.

I don’t have to tell you that so many hold being right, true, and having their beliefs affirmed over being sensitive, cautious, agreeing to disagree, thinking outside the box, being kind.  Are we so insecure that hurting relationships is a worthy consequence to feeling justified?

Several years ago, a pretty significant relationship in my life was seriously damaged by, what I perceived to be, that person condemning me for doing something they deemed wrong.  To me at the time, it seemed like they had the quote backwards: I’d rather be right than kind.  And, like so many fights, it swiftly traveled to a place of who’s right and who’s wrong and was completely absent of the love that should have been present in that fight.  The love that would’ve healed, helped us both to have seen each other’s side, and helped us move to a place of forgiveness.

Whether I like it or not, my worldview, the way I carry my religion or spirituality with me through this life, was seriously influenced by that situation.  What’s the point of any of these hard life lessons if we aren’t changed by them?  I was certainly changed by this one.  I’d say it made me really religiously tolerant.  (Tolerant.  It’s more than tolerant.  I do more than tolerate you (the collective you, of course!) and your differing beliefs.  Tolerate carries such negativity.  Let’s do more than “tolerate” each other.)  It made me carry my beliefs a little lighter, with a looser fist, with more room for the I never thought of it your way but I think I agree with you.

We all have so much to learn from one another.  If we could open our eyes long enough to see the truth others carry with them, what that truth means to them, and with that hold a great deal of empathy and understanding and graciousness too?  Well, I think that it’d do this world a whole lot of good.

My favorite Bible passage is this one from Micah: What does the Lord require of you?  To act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God.

If it’s as simple as that, why is it so messy?  I suppose we’re all too busy interpreting passages, needing to feel secure at whatever the cost, assuming we have the one and only truth. Many Christians live as though St. Paul said, “these three remain: faith, hope and love, but the greatest thing is doctrine” when in fact he said, “the greatest is love.” I think we should take that to heart and attempt to live like that’s true.

Has religion been divisive in your life?  Respectful dialogue encouraged below!

Summertime + produce.

Summertime.  Synonymous with the smell of coconut sunscreens, shaved legs after a hidden winter, ice cold margaritas with or without salt, cold salsas full of fresh tomatoes and pungent cilantro sprinkled on top, burgers with melty american cheese charred on the sides, giant salads standing solo for dinner, striped towels swaying in the breeze at their place on the line, bathing suits with crotches full of sand (when you’re a kid anyway), or smelling of chlorine, sweaty foreheads and dirt between the toes.  Summertime is a sweet time.

Lindsey, Parker and I took off the other day in search of some good milk in glass bottles and to inquire about CSA’s in our area.  You have to know something about me.  I’m all about ambiance.  Ambiance is half the experience, in my book.  You tell me this place has incredible Mexican but it’s right on the highway?  I just won’t get that excited about it.  So when we pulled up to this one farm, you turn off the road and follow a winding dirt road for a quarter mile.  Fields and trees on either side, and then you come to the barn where the CSA gathering and sharing takes place.  There, right there, grazing in a little cluster are the cows, room to roam but seemingly fond of staying close together.  The very cows who’s milk is in the glass bottles not 200 feet from where they roam.  Ambiance.

You know how people used to take many trips to various places to fill their grocery store quota for the week?  The butcher was one stop.  He knew just what cuts you preferred, how you wanted it cut, whether you reserved the bones for broth or not.  Then you got produce at something resembling a farmer’s market, picking out the freshest radishes and a cluster of bananas.  Finally, your cheese and milk came from another place still.  Many trips, each one fulfilling its duty.  Slowly, slower than these days anyway, you rounded out your week’s necessities and the dicing and stirring and cooking and eating could take place.  As we all know, grocery stores these days are a one-stop shop.  Around the outsides, you’ve got all your absolute musts and snaking through the middle aisles you can fill the gaps with your bagged goodies, the ones that, for the most part, we should be skipping anyway.  And ambiance?  Well there’s none of that (unless you’re lucky enough to shop at Wegman’s, that is.).

At this CSA, you fill this great canvas bag with your fresh loot: snap peas and cucumbers and kale and scallions.  Depending on the time of season, a chalkboard might announce, “Limit: 1 head of romaine this week.”  But outside of that, the rules are lax.  Just don’t be greedy, an unspoken one.  You even get the option to travel on down the road, still on the farm grounds, to pick your own herbs and cut your own wildflowers.  It comes at a price, of course, but you’re paying for the whole of it.  The earth experience.  When I asked a well-seasoned worker a few questions about the CSA like organic or not, GMOs, she laughed, “GMOs?  None of that crap on this farm.”  I thought, “I like this woman.”

The long and short of it: the one I most want to be a part of has a wait list of, wait for it, about five years.  In fact, I distinctly remember considering adding my name to the plethora back when Steve and I were first married.  I think I clicked out of the site assuming I’d find another without a wait.  My search ended shortly thereafter as I resigned myself to the ambiance-free grocery store, the occasional farmer’s market, and a local farm for my produce-needs.  Of course, I wish I’d added my name to the list then.

We visited another CSA that day, but it didn’t quite do it for me like that first one did.  It makes sense that I continue as I am, CSA-less, I suppose.  We have several weeks this summer where we wouldn’t be around for pick-up and the subsequent greens feast.  But one day CSA, one day.  I’ll get my hands dirty, clutch my messy bouquet of wildflowers, hear my milk bottles clinking on the floor of the car as I race home to get them in the fridge (and bring them back for a deposit the next week!), and search for recipes that use radicchio and rutubaga.

{picture from my instagram of the cows at the farm}

summertime staples.

1. sunscreen: this is the kind i most often buy and i give it two thumbs up.
2. leinenkugel’s summer shandy: i just had this at a party and it’s nice, light, and a little bit lemony.  a good summer beer.
3. beach tent: we’ve already put this up at the beach and it did the trick.  parker slept under it!  that was the idea.  so now i think we can do morning straight thru to the evening parked on the beach.
4. l.l. bean beach bag: the most basic, the most perfect, the best.  i’ll never stray from this beach bag.  word to the wise: pay a bit more for the extra long handles and have it monogrammed.
5. zucchini: one of my favorites and a-plenty through the summer months.  this recipe is one of my favorites.
6. fun shorts: i like the geo print on these sweat shorts.
7. a good album: i always equate summers with certain albums/songs.  i’m enjoying the oh hellos lately.
8. a perfect midi skirt: i love the shape of these skirts and i want one in… every color and pattern?  this one has caught my eye lately.

what are yours?  drink, food, clothes, beach-necessity or otherwise?!

slow down, you’re moving too fast.

Barfly by Ray LaMontagne on Grooveshark
i’ve been listening to this song a lot – one of those i could listen all day types of songs – and it’s definitely not about a mother’s love for her son buuuuut it does have this line in it that strikes a chord every time i hear it: slow down, you’re moving too fast.
i still refer to parker as a baby.  but i catch myself every time i say it and think, “you’re one of those moms, still referring to her no-longer-baby as a baby and that is sort of cheesy.  accept it, he’s growing up.”  cause man, he is growing up right before my very eyes.  i thought the first year went so fast?  the second might have gone even faster.  i feel like the baby-ness was shed so quickly and i can’t even pinpoint when.  there aren’t as many milestones from one to two, you know?  crawling!  first bite of food!  first night of sleep!  after one year of age, the months sort of blend together with fewer major markers but yet still such abrupt change.  they go from learning to walk to running and climbing but when?
he’s almost two.  whenever we’re out and he’s making eyes at strangers, they ask how old he is and are surprised when i tell them his age.  he’s a tall fellow, that little buddy of mine, making it all the sillier that he’s called a baby by me.  but those moments when he’s falling asleep on my lap, nursing like we’ve done a million times before, he’s still so little.  sure, he takes up so much more of my lap then he used to, legs hanging over the arm rests when they once didn’t even reach, but he’s still so little and so fresh and so my little guy.
anyway, we’re creeping up on two.  it’ll be here soon, sooner than i’d like.  i’ve got no choice in the matter, none of us do.  and while a part of it hurts a little bit, the other part celebrates how well i know him, how much he’s mine, how he’s not such a new part of the family anymore but really, he’s been here a good while at this point.  and he’s so loved, man is he ever.  
p.s. my skirt can be found here!
{pics from me iphone}

bachelorette, episode 2; also known as #rightreasons

allllllright.  here we go again.  let’s just jump right in, mmkay?

des drawing.  this is deep.
i’m not sure drew is there for des, if you know what i’m sayin’.
des is wishing abc didn’t give her a convertible.  #badhairdate

date 1: brooks bam-a-lam
wedding theme.  stupid.
they think they’re so special OMG SITTING ON HOLLYWOOD sign.  they haven’t seen friends with benefits.  nbd.  (also, good movie.)
so many metaphors, so little time.
instead of chandeliers on a bridge, put des and brooks in a family of five and then see how they do.  (that’s an idea.  no more fantasy dates.  abc, here’s your next show: bachelorette real life uncut)
meanwhile, put stevesie and bridget on that bridge?  sparks will flyyyyy.

group date:
have they always done these stupid organized group dates?  i don’t remember these from seasons way back when but stop it, abc.  just let the people hang out and drink in the pool and make fools of themselves.
it’s sad how many references to seasons past that i understood in that stupid rap.
ben: “i’m not the guy who’s gonna stab you in the back.  ima stab you in the FRONT.”
zac.  the journal.  sweet.  talked over each other, but sweet.
brandon: getting awful deep
ben gets the rose, the boys weep.  (also, he’s smarmy.)

date 2: jim carrey (see for yourselves and then return.)
ok, he’s sweet.
let’s run through the fields!  #alwayscheesynevercute
ojai.  reminds me of brothers and sisters.  which reminds me that i love sally fields house in that show.
best roadtrip you’ve ever had des?  sorry des’ family.  you took her on many.  but this guy she’s known for ten minutes takes the win.
pictures of the car wreck?  they love to get deep right away don’t they.
we had a fun time today.  DIDNT WE DES.  DIDNT WE HAVE A FUN TIME TODAY.
you can cut this awkward hot tub scene with a knife.
does she want to kiss him cause she wants to kiss him or because she can’t take the madness.
either way, i appreciate a woman who takes charge.

rose ceremony:
i don’t know 89% of the guys here so i think this one’ll be pretty painless for me.
diabetes-guy, you could’ve waited till maybe date 1 to share?  does she know your name?
“oh my gosh” says des.  oh my gosh you’re telling me this already is what she means.
annnnnnd ben.
mikey t. aka sopranos extra
michael g. just used my fave quote!  it is what it is, man.  yes michael g.  it is what it is.
sopranos-extra likes to be in the fray.
group-huddle: take ben down.
nick m. i think this is the first time i’ve seen you.  upon your exit.

scenes from next week:
if anyone’s tattooing des on their chest it’s brandon.
whooooo is the guy wearing the girl’s lululemon tank?
ben’s girlfriend seems like an actress.  abc, you coulda done better.

sooooooo.  i don’t have any clear favorites yet.  it is what it is!  hashtag michael g.

you?  give it to me straight.

a box fort.

steve and i made a long-awaited purchase of a washer and dryer last week.  the one i’d been using was doing its job… buuuut not.  it was from ’98 so it had run its faithful course.  there are certain times when i feel, ever so keenly, “i have arrived!” as a house-mouse and the anticipation of the delivery of our new washer and dryer was one of those times (coming in at a close second to my excitement over a new barefoot contessa cookbook).

i learned more than i thought i ever needed to know about them but the big kicker–size difference!  guys.  guyssssss.  i can do in one load what i used to do in three.  the old one?  like ten towels?  this one… 67!  i exaggerate, but, you get the drift.  steve asked me how i like using it and i said, “it is an event.”  it’s true.  the thing practically talks to me.  i think i could train it to call me by name.  siri has some definite competition now.

anyway, when they came to deliver it, steve asked the delivery men if we could keep the boxes after they installed it.  they kindly obliged and a box fort was born.  steve, william, and lindsey put it together and called parker over to check it out.  it’s always fun, a fort of any kind.  parker climbed in and began to shriek excitedly.

cheers to box forts, say i.

(this all reminds of of christina katerina + the box.  one of my favorite books from way back when.  anyone else remember that book??)

These days.

The last few weeks have been busy.  I feel whooped and weary, bone-tired and beleaguered (beleaguered might be overstating it a bit but I’ve had that word mulling around in my head for the last week and the only way to get it out is to use it in a sentence.).  And it’s only the beginning of June!  Really, it’s all good things.  Parents in town, too little sleep, running around.  Those sorts.  And, if you follow me on Twitter you’re already painfully aware, maybe I’m suffering from allergies?  For the first time?  (And I’m also tweeting celebrities without shame these days.  So far?  Oprah, Kristen Bell, and Ellen.  I very well may watch my followers go way down, but that’s the price you pay to brush shoulders with the rich and famous!)

What now?  Oh, can you get some anxiety when you’re just nursing less?  Not stopping altogether, but we’re down to twice a day now and I feel like maybe that’s why?  Blame it on the hormones!  I’m not sure, my Mom can also be this way, so maybe it’s just genetics but it feels like lately I want a big ‘ol time-out, cup of tea, and a shut-off switch for my brain.  On top of that, a lot of people dear to me are dealing with some really sad things right now.  I’m the type who really feels that stuff.  When I get this way, I listen to Bridge Over Troubled Water really, really loud and I pretty much have to be lying down by the time Art and Paul are harmonizing, “Sail on silver girl, sail on by.”  It’s like my thing.  Some of us dip into the cookie dough, others have a song.  What of it.

As you probably already know, my living room is gray.  The man, the myth, the legend, Denny-the-painter, came, saw, and conquered.  He exclaimed how much he loves to paint (that’s one of the jobs he used to legit do) so much that I’m pretty sure I should have charged him to let him do it.  Either way, it’s painted.  Country-folk yellow, be gone.  And now I’m like, “Ooh.  That rug doesn’t look as good.  Neither does that chair.”  You know how it goes.  So, I’m in the market for, oh, probably just a rug.  It was to be expected.  Our straight-from-the-racks-of-Home-Goods rug was not going to cut it forever.

I’m reading a few books these days.  Three.  When I read three books at one time, I’m not sure I read any of them well, but so be it.  I need to dabble!  My Mom left this book for me upon her departure.  She has more than one friend dealing with some serious cancer right now and said it was a huge comfort.  Also, I’m pretty sure she worries a little bit about the state of her youngest daughter’s spirituality.  I’m going to read it because sometimes I can get bogged down by the state of the world which, if you didn’t already know, can look pretty grim at times.  Also, my book club is reading this one!  I’m only number 772 on the wait list so hopefully I’ll get it before we meet.

So, what’s going on in your lives?  Tell me some happy things.

{image from my favorite tumblr}

gardening with mom.

as you know, my parents are in town.  well, my mom knows a thing or two about gardening and i know negative information.  yes, negative information.  it goes beyond nothing to a dangerous place where you threaten to kill your plants just by walking by them.  there was one particularly unfortunate looking bush that steve hacked to death at the wrong time of the season, i presume taking too much of it   to the point of no return, and it’s been dying a slow death right in front of our house ever since.  a few weeks ago via text my sweet mother suggested that she and my dad come up to help us with some spring cleaning of sorts.  i suspect she feels guilty that she’s able to be around two of my other sisters fairly often, so i really honed in on her guilty conscience and rode it all the way to the nursery (and, if i’m being honest, the paint store as well!  my dad painted our living room while he was in town!  he’s an ex-painter by trade, among other things, and loves to paint and was thrilled to do it?  um, ok dad?  be my guest?  so, my living room is gray now!!).  we bought a lime hydrangea that is, ready, LOW MAINTENANCE and will flower late june until the first frost.  now THAT i can do.  the man did say that i should water it pretty often in its first season soooo still wish me luck.  that poor hydrangea is not fully aware of whose dirt its been planted in.  bridget the brown thumb’s dirt, that’s who.  anyway, my mom keeps at it while i swat mosquitoes, weed, and ensure that parker is not running into the road.  oh, and make suggestions every few minutes that we pack it in and head to the beach.  she’s more motivated than i to make my house look presentable.  bless her.  and my dad, oh my dad, he painted that living room in one day.  what would’ve taken me ages took him a day.  
parents!  the best kind!  i’ll rent them out to you if you’re interested.
and i will also take any tried and true kill-all-the-mosquitoes-forever tips you’ve got for someone who those buggers happen to love.  
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