Our biker hangout of choice

Cook's Corner

(Actually, it's the only biker hangout in our neck of the woods.  Suburban Orange County is not really biker country.)

It's Memorial Day!

And we don't have any plans.  No cookout.  No family gathering.  Nobody dropping by.  Nothing.  Zilch.  Nada.

Sounds pretty nice, doesn't it?  

Star Trek

See it!  If you were a seventies kids who grew up watching reruns of Star Trek every day after school, you will LOVE this movie.  It was SO much fun!

Mother's Day

So I read the rest of what you broards had to say, and I have to agree with the spirit of it all.  It seems a holiday (holiday?  it's not, exactly, is it?) guaranteed to make everyone feel slightly bad about themselves--mothers and everyone in their families.  Whatever you do for your mother, you have this vague feeling that it wasn't quite right, or else it reminds you that your mother is no longer with you and that makes you sad, or if you are a mother, you feel sort of bad about things no matter how it works out.  I feel guilty that I even participate in a day that seems to have been established with the intention of making my family feel bad.

That said, my Mother's Day was a good day.  We didn't really pay much attention to it being Mother's Day because we had to go to a wedding out of town yesterday, and weren't home this morning.  The wedding was in the pretty winery town of Paso Robles, at a very pretty winery and inn.  Because we were only a half hour from San Simeon, we decided on a whim to try to see Hearst Castle while we were in the area, so this morning we got up kind of early and drove over to the coast.  We were uncertain if you could get in without reservations--it used to be rather difficult.  But they've changed the way they organize their tours, and we were able to hop right on a bus and go right up to the castle.  It was a dazzling place, and now I've resolved to re-visit Citizen Kane to get both sides of the William Randolph Hearst story.  (All the propaganda at the castle and its visitor center is very pro-Hearst, naturally.)

One touching moment, though--my sweet, absentminded professor, laid-back hippie son sent me flowers.  I was absolutely astounded.  He's never done anything remotely like that in his entire life.  Just...wow.

Hi. It's me.

The one who never blogs.  The one who got through the entire month of March without updating.

It's been a rough spring for me, but today is brilliantly sunny.  Hallie and I are going to the OC Performing Arts Center to see Avenue Q, which I've heard is quite funny.  Tomorrow is Palm Sunday and my babies are going to be processing with palm branches, plus singing a very nice anthem (called, not surprisingly, Palm Branches.)

Dave wormed out of his ticket to Avenue Q in order to watch the Final Four.  When the Pokes were out of the tournament, I sort of lost interest, although I do have North Carolina to win in one of my brackets.  Our friends are coming over Monday to watch the big game.  I think I'll make pulled pork sandwiches.

Ian has a job that he really, really likes.  But last week he had to work 60 hours.  That's a lot of work.  Hallie is a bit disillusioned with hers, but welcome to being a grownup.  Did I tell you she was on the cover of both the Feb. and March issues of the magazine?  So that's kinda cool.

That's all.  With luck, I'll see you again before May.

Dullsville

Still nothing new around here.  I did the soup diet last week and lost seven pounds.   (For some reason, I love the soup diet.)  I lost another pound this week, but it'll be slow going from here on out, I know.  'Tis the nature of being 51. I fear.

My favorite kitty, the black and white one, is having some dental stuff done under general anesthesia this morning.  I'm nervous about it, and anxious to hear from the vet that it's over.  He looked so tiny and terrified when I left him in his cat carrier this morning.

Dave, Hallie and I went to get our ashes imposed last night, and ate dinner at the Pho place afterward.  Upon looking at our blackened foreheads, the waiter said "Whoa, I didn't know you guys were Catholic.  You don't look Catholic."  Huh?

That's about it.  See, I TOLD you it was dull.

A new post

I know it's time for one.  But I just don't have much to say.

I will say this--I saw the most gigantic double rainbow today that I believe I've ever seen in my life.  Dave, Hallie and I went shopping over by the beach, and on our way back toward the inland foothills, we drove from bright sun into very dark and threatening skies, and right in the middle of that, a huge rainbow with another, paler version next to it!

What did we buy, you ask?  Not very much.  I got two scarves--those long skinny ones.  Hallie got a headband with a big black bow on it, some bobby pins with black flowers on them, and a necklace.  Our purchases were very cheap because they came from Forever 21.  We tried on some clothes in H&M, but didn't like anything.  Seemed like all they had today was an endless variety of cardigans and lots of blouses with short, puffy sleeves.  Dave got a skin for his i-phone.  We had lunch at a vegetarian place, The Veggie Grill, and it was (amazingly) extremely good!

That's about it.  As a parting gift, I leave you with this little ditty from my Oklahoma friend, JimmyBob.  It tickled me.

So You Want Some More, Eh?

When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie,

That's amore.

When an eel bites our hand, and that's not what you planned

That's a moray.

When our habits are strange and our customs deranged,

That's our mores.

When your horse munches straw and the bales total four,

That's some more hay.

When Othello's poor wife becomes stabbed with a knife,

That's a Moor, eh?

When a Japanese knight draws his sword in a fight,

That's Sumurai.

When your sheep go to graze in a damp marshy place,

That's  a moor, eh?

When your boat comes home fine and you tie up her line,

That's a moor, eh?

When you ace your last test, like you did all the rest,

That's some more A's.

When on Mt. Cook you see an aborigine,

That's a Maori.

Alley Oop's homeland has a space gun with pizzazz,

That's a Moo-ray.

A comedian ham with the name Amsterdam,

That's a Morey.

When your chocolate graham is so full and so crammed,

That's s'more, hey!