mi madre

meet Grandma

Her father was a florist. She has no middle name. She's lost a child. She's lost a breast to cancer. Her laughter is infectious. She sewed her children's clothes. She knows soap opera plots and characters like nobody's business. She doesn't judge, she loves unconditionally. Her garden is beautiful. She could care less about material things. No one, and I mean NO ONE, can make blackberry jelly like her. We share deep and devoted love of ice cream.

And I am more myself with her than I am with anyone else.

I love her.



She took a nasty spill the other morning. Now she's in the hospital being poked and prodded. Tomorrow the tests will come in to see if she needs some rehab or if she's good enough to go home Friday.

I hope she gets to go home. You see, my grandma has this incredible attitude. Chin up. Always. And I feel as though being stuck in the hospital much longer might dampen that spirit. Because at eighty nine creeping in at ninety, when your days tend to be the same, day after day, there's probably not much motivation. Plus she's ready.

You see, we believe in heaven and in God, my grandma and I. And we believe that grandpa is there in heaven, waiting for her. So I can understand being ready to move on.

A few years ago I told her that for her ninetieth I was throwing her an ice cream party. Her reply? "Oh good. A reason to live!"

That woman. What a firecracker.

it doesn't take much

Today at lunch my BTF (Best Tuesday Friend- we decided we're really only best friends on Tuesdays) Taylor and I got into a discussion about how I am so very easily entertained. She informed me that when she gets bored she finds things that would probably keep me entertained and then imagines what I would say about such things. I guess I'm glad I keep her entertained even when I'm not around.

For the most part, I'm usually never really bored. Just faux bored I suppose.

Perhaps it's because I find the world to be fascinating, and the people within it make it even more so. And I shouldn't even begin to talk about my active imagination.

But I will.

When I was little. I had an imaginary friend.

We would play in the blue playhouse my dad built for me with the flower boxes under the windows (I specifically remember reading a Dick and Jane-esque book, seeing her in a playhouse, lusting after the playhouse, and begging my dad to make one just like it. How nice it is to have a handy dad). We would go to ballerina class in "the forest" (a huge clump of trees in the back forty of our property, covered in berry bushes, a creek running through). I would come visit her at her house (the water pump, which conveniently became the gas station when I needed to fill up my bike, oh sorry, motorcycle). She would pout with me when I felt the world had wronged me.

I won't deny it, she was awesome.

I bet you will never guess what her name was.
Are you ready for this?


Ice Cream Cone.


That's right. Her name was Ice Cream Cone.

Which got me to thinking just now... I'm pretty sure celebrities name their children after their childhood imaginary friends. They must, right?! How else do you come up with some of those names?

But I digress. Pretty much, this whole post is just to say that yesterday I treated myself to a drive-thru car wash. Those car washes still haven't lost their magic. I. Was. Mesmerized.

Like I said, it doesn't take much.

je voudrais

zees blouse from Spool No. 72.



Okay, so maybe the puffed sleeves are a bit much
[Anne Shirley would dig them]
but I kind of love it.

music for your Monday

I'm not a crazy cat lady

but I had to share this photo I took this afternoon of my cat. I can't look at it without laughing.

He just looks so...

excited?

happy father's day Pops

I love you more than ice cream.

dear Camera,

I promise I will never ever never again let a friend borrow you for two weeks. It's been agony. I'm so glad we've been reunited. Pretty sure you're glad too.

Your loving master,
Court

music for your Monday

Easy going, lazy summer day music.

I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride my bike.

I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride it where I like.



Yesterday I spent the whole afternoon with my brotha from anotha motha, Chance, riding our bicycles through downtown Sacramento and the American River bike trail, playing lacrosse (which I discovered, I suck at), redeeming myself with my mad frisbee skills, eating some delicious sandwiches, and sipping some cider by the river.

Summer is the best.

The only bummer is that I finally got my first bee sting.
Ever.
Darn thing flew into my hair while I was riding my beautiful new bike.

And I almost got hit by a car on J street. That could've ended badly.

I think I need to hone in on my biking through city skills before I move to San Francisco. In two months!!!



Image found here.

music for your Monday

A song to kick off these hot summer days.



So ready for swimming. If only my parents hadn't drained their pool last week and are planning on ripping it out later this summer.

literary genius

found this poem about my brother while I was throwing things out today.
Circa 1997.
Made me laugh,
so I've been walking around the house
reciting it to anyone who will listen.


Kyle
K is for Kyle
Y is for you
L is for loser
E is for ew!

well, hello there

So I've pretty much been a terrible blogger this week/past month. Life is starting to slow down a bit so hopefully I'll be back to regular posting. Here's what you've missed-

wedding stuff. The above photo is from Jess and Aaron's wedding last weekend. She was stunning. And I'm not just saying it because she was the bride and that's what you're supposed to say. She. Was. Gorgeous. So happy for them. Wish I had more photos, but it's hard to take them when you're in the wedding party. And busy having fun.

painting. Lots and lots of painting.

bicycle rides all over Sacramento. Resulting in sore butt.

four barbeques in two days. And I didn't have to cook for any of them. Yes.

watching Old Yeller. Makes me want a dog. Real bad.

bargain shopping. Get this. A blazer I was wanting, originally $78. I got it for $7. That's right.

catching up with elementary school friends over pizza.

helping friends cope through breakups. Retail therapy is the best weapon.

visiting the strawberry stand WAY to much. They're starting to know me.

a bit of a health kick. Which was ruined by Captain Crunch. It's just so good. I couldn't help myself. Maybe I'll have a bowl now... just to get it out of the cupboard.

movie nights with friends.

and more good things that I can't remember.

Oh and housesitting. Hence the lack of blogging due to iffy internet. So. Next week, there will be music, there will be photos, and there will be a lack of lameness and vagueness.