Thursday, July 30, 2009

We do not watch TLC. Promise.

I got a call last weekend while I was with Brad in Carlsbad painting the trim in our house. [About that house: it's old, not new, we've owned it two years, lived in it for one, we're selling it, and I'm sad about it. Hmph.]

It was my little sister Karlee. She started, "Elise, you'll never guess what Grace and Claire were playing a minute ago."

It's true. I never would have guessed.

I'll spare you the details.

It involved a blanket, a baby doll, and Grace coaching, "Okay, Claire! Give birth! Give birth!"

I. am. in. trouble.

Saturday, July 18, 2009


I didn't have any pets growing up. Although we went through occasional bouts of begging, my parents never seriously considered getting us even a fish. (No use even thinking about a dog.) We were taught to appreciate wildlife from a distance--specifically from behind the fence at the zoo. 

Not Brad.

So when my parents accidentally acquired an albino lizard, Brad was designated its temporary caretaker. (I don't know how you accidentally acquire an exotic reptile. Leave it to my parents.) 

At the time, it lived in this.

This was apparently unsuitable.

So Brad produced a temporary terrarium from a giant Rubbermaid bin, tile, rocks, bricks, and a pseudo-heat lamp.

He bought--and caught--live grasshoppers for the lizard's eating pleasure.

He even took it on walks. 

(Okay. They weren't strictly walks. Brad just set the lizard out in the grass and let him run around. But the mental image of Brad walking a leashed lizard is so much more amusing.)

I am thinking about this now because Brad is gone, taking care of our house. 

And I am feeling like a sunshine-less, grasshopper-less lizard. I am missing him taking care of me.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

False Advertising.

Do these look the same to you?

Friday, July 10, 2009

To the person who stole my phone...

I'll give you 200 bucks if you'll give it back. (Which is more than it'll go for on ebay, by the way.)

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Stunned Still

Few things shock me into wondering silence like lightening.

One of those few things is fireworks.

And last Saturday it just so happened that God and man collaborated to brighten the sky.

Most of the guests at the Volpato's 4th of July party ran for cover.

I couldn't follow them inside. Although the earth rumbled, I was stuck. Glued to the ground. Looking up.

Claire rested on my hip.

We watched until we were drenched.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009


Does anybody listen to RadioLab? Well, you should. It's the best. Last week's segment discussed randomness.

Which is pretty random.

Because last weekend Brad and I went to a movie theater we'd never been to before to see Transformers in a nearly sold-out room, and almost had to sit apart until a nice group of "kids" scooted over for us. ["Kids" is in quotes because I think they were probably no younger than me. But they looked young. And they seemed careless and free. Which means that can't possibly be adults.]

And they started chatting with us. Which doesn't happen to me very often.

And. They were from Carlsbad, NM. My favorite town. Population: 30,000. Distance from movie theater in question: over 500 miles.

We caught up on the local gossip as if we were old friends.

Random, no?