Saturday, November 13, 2010

A Week In

The three stooges, in front of Monticello.

Last weekend (and this week, for that matter) was non-stop and a lot of fun.

After saying our goodbyes,  Matt and I departed ways until Thanksgiving.  Amanda, Amy, and I piled back into the truck and started our remaining drive to Virginia.

It was a long drive, especially since I had to do all of the driving, but of course the girls kept me entertained the whole way.  We got into town around 7 o'clock and after unpacking the truck and realizing we didn't have immediate internet access, we were both starving and ready to get online.

Against our better judgment, we stopped and ate at the first place we found, Taco Bell.  About an hour later, we were all regretting the decision and I subsequently made Larry and Shemp undertake a solemn vow that we would never commit such a cardinal sin again, at least not in one another's presence.

Using my GPS (and a lot of U-turns later), we found a Walmart and grabbed the essentials.  (You know, cereal, fruit, milk, cinnamon rolls, and a wireless router).  I had done some basic research on the things we wanted to do Saturday, but had counted on using the internet that came with the apartment to do some final checking upon our arrival.

... Of course, you can't get online with just a router.  Rats, foiled!  I think Wade may've laughed at our web access ignorance, and I felt stranded.  What is it about being able to check your email and look up the weather online that makes being away from home more bearable?  I don't know what it is, but I can tell you that I went up to Comcast and picked up my modem as soon as the apartment office told me where to go!

Monticello from the back.

Saturday, we toured the beautiful Monticello.  This time, I actually got to go into the house.  Let me just say that if you're ever in the area, I really think you should take the time to tour Thomas Jefferson's estate.  It's really beautiful and the guides do a very good job of bringing it all to life by giving you some of the history of the house and the man who built it.

Jefferson was a brilliant man.  Like many literate people of the age, he was mostly self-taught.  He had an enormous library (and even sold it to the US government at one point to dissolve some of his enormous debt).  He was an academic and founded the University of Virginia so that others could have a higher education.  He was a brilliant writer, politician, botanist, student of architecture, and much more.  He was also an extreme micro-manager.  He was obsessive about everything on his estate, taking scrupulous notes and monitoring every single tiny aspect of the entire enterprise.

Me and Jeffs

The two things I cannot admire about Jefferson were his lifelong indebtedness and ownership of slaves.  Even though he was in debt, he kept remodeling his house and spent according to the lifestyle to which he was accustomed.  After he died, his slaves were sold for much more than the value of his entire property.  He only freed five of his slaves in his will.  Jefferson was strongly against slavery, calling it, an "abominable crime," a "moral depravity," a "hideous blot," and a "fatal stain" that deformed "what nature had bestowed on us of her fairest gifts."  However, he owned them his entire life.  I think he viewed them as essential for his survival.  He was so deeply in debt that he probably never freed them all because of how valuable slaves were.  Why he had this lifelong conflict of conviction and personal reality, we'll probably never really know.

After Monticello, we stopped for a quick wine tasting at Jefferson Vineyards, just down the road.  Perfect weather for a tasting and tour, too!

Wine tasting, anyone?

Since the weekend, it's just been me and the "boys".  I think they're adjusting to being apartment dogs.  It's been a big change losing our large fenced in yard and resorting to leash walking, something we're learning how to handle as efficiently as possible.  We're all three also learning to get used to all of the creaks and movement noises associated with living in an apartment.

The only times I lived in an apartment were our stint in Japan and the first summer Matt and I were married.  In Japan, it was especially hard to get used to being quiet all of the time as a family of five that had always had our own (separate) house.  You could hear the neighbors practicing the piano or a wife fussing at her husband for coming home too late, so I know they could hear whenever the three of us girls became embroiled in a cat fight.

Who here hasn't done a barrel stand?!

The apartment is pretty nice though.  I really don't have any complaints about it.  It's more space than I need (room for visitors!) and is pretty new.  It's up on a foothill with a beautiful view and lots of amenities. 

My first week on the new job went pretty well.  Thankfully, they were able to get all of my paperwork done and accounts set up moderately quickly and I even got time to dig in and start doing some things.  The people are all pretty friendly and I think it's really going to help the time fly by quicker staying busy and being in a work environment with good people.

The biggest adjustment for me has been getting used to being on my own.  I've never lived by myself, let alone lived completely separated from friends and family.  It's been exciting and scary all at once.  I'm not so much feeling lonely yet because I haven't had any free time on my hands, but I am definitely having waves of homesickness.  I've noticed that I have gotten choked up or teary-eyed in the afternoons or on the drive home a few times, for no apparent reason.

I really think I wouldn't have any issues if I had been able to bring Matt with me.  It's been hard being apart, and it's just a week in.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?  :)

Who wouldn't miss these characters?

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Official Virginian

Helllooo.  I'm safe and sound in Virginia!

I don't have time for a long post, so this will just be a quick update.

My sisters, Amanda and Amy, rode up with me and spent the weekend seeing some of the sights.  We left Thursday after lunch and stayed the night in Atlanta with my roommate from college and her husband.  


We went through Atlanta because Matt had a track weekend with his brother and we needed to drop him off on the way since  I was stealing his tow vehicle for three months.  We towed the track car behind our packed-to-the-roof SUV, loaded with all of my clothes, four people, two dogs, and a partridge in a pear tree.

Friday morning, the girls and I all headed the rest of the way up to Virginia.  What a gorgeous drive!  I wanted to take photos out of the windows a million times, but I was the only one able to drive a manual transmission.

We ran around Charlottesville on Saturday (more on all that later) and then shopped till we dropped in Williamsburg on Sunday.  I dropped the girls off at the airport in Richmond on Sunday evening and headed to my apartment for the start of my stint flying solo.

On Monday, I started my temporary work assignment.  There were some problems with my paperwork and access to the building, so I will go back over this afternoon but can't really start until (hopefully) Wednesday morning.

That's okay though, since I have four homework assignments and plenty of missed class to catch up on.

I quickly realized that our 400 (shared) minutes/month cell phone plan is not going to cut it for the first time since we started sharing a cell phone plan when we first got married six and a half years ago!  I updated my plan, but unfortunately it doesn't take affect until December.  They really know how to get you on that, don't they?!

In the mean time, I'm trying to figure out how to set up skype.  I've got to get a webcam and microphone since my work laptop didn't have one.  Anybody else use skype?  Is it pretty straight forward?

I'm slowly settling in and have a constant shopping list.  I think I've been to Walmart three times already and need to go back again today. My furnished apartment came with dish detergent, but not a chopping board.  I had spare light bulbs, but no modem. Just those mundane tasks associated with moving into a new place.

So, I have a million things to do, and will have to post a more thorough update later.

Until then, here's the beautiful view from my front porch...

Friday, October 22, 2010

Leaving on a Jet Plane...

...Don't Know When I'll be Back Again.

Well, I'm not really leaving on a jet plane, and I kind of know when I'll be back again.


I can't sleep and so I figured the best cure was to get up and actually write a blog post.

What's keeping me from sleeping, you might ask?  I found out today that I'm going to be moving to central Virginia for two months... in two weeks.

Yikes!

(Yes, I really used the word yikes.  I actually use it all the time.  Lame, I know.  I hope you can overlook it this once.)


I'm trying not to freak out.

My job is sending me up there to be one of our on-site people until the permanent guy is able to move in January.  I've got to find an apartment, work out the logistics of getting up there, finish all the projects I'm involved in at work right now, figure out puppy custody, arrange for class notes for grad school while I'm away, and rent someone to feed my husband while I'm gone!


There's a lot for me to get done before I go but even more for me to do once I'm there.  I'm so pumped about all of the things there are to do and see in the area.

I want to go back to Monticello, tour D.C., visit Colonial Williamsburg/Mt. Vernon/UVA, and a whole list of great ideas provided by Dr. Charles and E. Fulcher.  I'm trying to talk my family into making a road trip and crashing at my place.

Start planning your late fall/winter trip to Virginia and come visit me!

Monday, October 4, 2010

Sherri


Today would have been my Aunt Sherri's 52nd birthday.

I miss her.

I debated back and forth whether to write something here about the recent passing of my dear aunt.  I thought what Amanda wrote was perfect and don't really know that I could do her memory justice quite as well as my sister did.  On the other hand, there are so many good things to remember, and I don't want to let some of those cherished memories slip away.

A couple of months ago, while my Aunt Terri (Sherri's identical twin) was recovering from some type of a brain hemorrhage, our family was on edge.  We were sick with worry.  Sherri called to update us and to request extra prayers when things weren't looking good. Sherri always made sure the doctors were doing their jobs and was the constant vigil whenever anyone was in the hospital.

Aunts Sherri (left) and Terri on their recent girls' trip to Disney World this past spring.  
They both loved Disney World!

Aunt Sherri was the medical expert of the family.  She told me once that when she was growing up, most women who worked outside of the home were either teachers or nurses.  She became a nurse.

I remember visiting her once or twice in the Emergency Room where she worked when I was a kid.  She really seemed in her element - she had lots of friends that she worked with and was well respected.  My general practitioner used to moonlight in the ER with her on occasion, and he still asks me regularly how my Aunt Sherri is doing.

Sherri told me that she knew she'd never be able to advance in her career if she didn't continue her education, and as a result, she once again put herself through school.  This time, she completed her nurse practitioner's degree as a single mom while working full time all at the same time. 

For the last several years, she has served as the nurse practitioner for an HIV/AIDs clinic.  It was extremely emotionally demanding, and I don't know how she did it.  It was a hard job.  But, it was a job that someone had to do, and I think Sherri really felt a calling to serve in this way.  She talked about how she couldn't have done her job without knowing such a loving and forgiving God... it would have been too difficult.  She felt like she was called to love others in that clinic and saw it as a ministry.

While the job was extremely hard at times, I hope she knows that she was making a difference.  For 7 years, she had a 100% success rate in protecting new babies from contracting HIV from their mothers.  At the time that she had her first patient to deliver an HIV-positive baby, another mother named her healthy child partly after my aunt.  I don't know how she did it.  I can't imagine how hard that job was on her.  At the same time of devastation, she was also honored in another situation.

I really looked up to Sherri.  I had originally enrolled in college as pre-med, but Aunt Sherri gave me some really wise advice.  She told me that I should think long and hard about going into the medical field if I wanted to be able to have a family.  Doctors have long hours.  She suggested I apply for a medical shadowing program.  I did, and was accepted (I wrote my application essay about how I looked up to her as a nurse).  I shadowed a local doctor and by the end of the program decided that she was right.  I wasn't willing to dedicate the next ten years towards school to pursue a career that would demand so much of my time.

I switched to engineering.

 Sherri and my cousin, Rachel.

About two years ago, out of the blue, Sherri called to see if I would like to have my grandparents' wedding china.  She had decided that she had "too much stuff", and wanted me to have some of it.  I was absolutely thrilled.  She gave me the china, along with my grandfather's pipe and the first photos of him that I had ever owned.  She spent a good bit of time talking with me about him, about how much she loved him, how much he doted on me, and told me stories about him I'd never heard before.

Since then, I really felt like she became much more than just my aunt.  We had girls' lunches with my sisters and my Aunt Terri, and also with just the two of us.  I attended church with her this past winter, and we spent the afternoon together.  I loved seeing how she, a Catholic, worshiped, and she equally enjoyed explaining the rituals and theology to me.  We talked religion, love, and life.  She helped me through a really tough winter and gave really good advice about all sorts of things.

I don't know why she was taken so young.

What I do know is that she had a lot of trials and sadness in her life, and I have no doubt that she is now joyfully singing praises in her Heavenly home, free from pain, sickness, disappointment, and sorrow with only eternity before her.  

I really miss her.


He will swallow up death forever;
and the Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces.
Isaiah 25:8a

Happy Birthday, Terri

 Happy Birthday, to my dear Aunt Terri.

Terri on her wedding day with her identical twin, Sherri.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Hiroshima and Miyajima

 Hiroshima today, er, I mean back in May. 

From Tokyo, we took our first Shinkansen ride to Hiroshima.  Except for Amanda, this was a first for everyone, and it was a really interesting experience.

We started off by boarding on the “non-reserved, non-smoking” cars.  You can make seat reservations ahead of time if you know when you’d like to leave.  Since we weren’t 100% sure what time we’d want to leave Tokyo, or how long it would take to get to the correct station/track, we skipped that option.

I wish I’d taken photos of the inside of the train.  It’s very similar to an airplane except that you have a lot more headroom and feels a lot cleaner.  Announcements are made in English and Japanese.  There’s a stewardess or steward with a cart on each train that sells drinks, bento box lunches, and snacks.  Whenever the stewardess or other train employee leaves a car to go to the next one, they turn around and bow to the passengers before exiting.  Can you imagine our airline stewardesses bowing to the cabin every time they exited??

Everyone forms neat lines and waits pretty patiently to board the trains, especially the Shinkansen.  Note how clean both the platform and train are.

The Shinkansen was also our first glimpse into the Japanese countryside.  It is just breathtaking.  There are lots of small villages throughout, and we really didn’t see any uninhabited areas.    Every acre has a purpose and use. 

When we arrived in Hiroshima, we quickly found our hotel, a friendly little hostel just a short walk from the main train station.  It was our only stay in a hostel, and we really enjoyed it.  We opted for the tatami rooms with private bathrooms.  The bathroom was a little cramped and you couldn’t sit on the toilet and close the door at the same time.  I felt sorry for Matt every time he had to squeeze into the little Japanese bathrooms on our trip. 

One night, we all piled into Ryan and Amy’s room to watch that week’s episode of Lost on his laptop.  We had to keep up with the final season!

The employees gave Amanda directions to a local fabric store so that she could collect some swatches for a quilt she wanted to make.  The rest of the group roamed around and happened upon this little hole-in-the-wall restaurant.  It was tucked into a narrow side street of what I imagined old Japan to look like. 


The restaurant was a small room, just big enough for a single hibachi grill.  It was run by an older couple that seemed delighted to have us as patrons.  As we ate, I looked around at the walls and saw photos of all sorts of famous Japanese people eating in that very restaurant.  Baseball players, politicians, and even who I believe were members of the imperial family.  I felt like we’d stumbled upon a rare treasure and soaked it all in.

We devoured our okonomiyaki, a Japanese dish consisting of friend noodles, a pancake-like base, vegetables, and seafood.  Even better than El Paso on 53 with its “Good Food, Yes” sign.


We spent the next day touring the bomb memorials and museum.  We started out in Peace Park, reading the plaques on the monuments and observing the ruins.  We were approached by a woman who volunteers as a guide for the memorial and who gave us a pretty good summary of some of the logistics of the world’s first atomic bombing of an inhabited area.

She spoke of the technical aspects of the bombing (how Hiroshima wasn’t actually the first choice of a target but was doomed by the beautiful weather in the area that day), the time of the bombing (morning, as people are arriving at work and school), location (intersection of two rivers with a very distinctive bridge, an easy landmark for the pilot, in a densely populated area), height of the bomb (a few thousand feet above the ground).  Radar picked up the incoming planes beforehand, but because there were only estimated to be three planes, no alert was issued as it was deemed a non-threat (bombing raids involved high numbers of planes). 


Hiroshima Genbaku Dome today, the only nearby building that survived the bombing.

We learned about the devastating effects of the bomb.  This was not like any other bombing in all of history.  Those that survived the initial blast suffered from health issues years later.  The effects of the bomb lasted through multiple generations. 

There are not many photos of the initial aftermath.  The reporters that were there said that they could not bring themselves to document the complete and total devastation.  The city was a complete wasteland.  Entire communities were wiped out.  Flesh melted off of the victims.  Those who did not die immediately had to survive the resulting city fires, radiation sickness, and even years later were often doomed to cancer and other post-radiation exposure side effects.

One image that stood out to me was of the sole survivor within the epicenter of the bombing.  He had just gone into the basement of the building in which he worked to get some supplies.  The concrete building protected him from the blast.  He felt a shake and a loud noise and when he came up, everyone else was dead and the city was burning.

The dome immediately after the bombing.

Another volunteer guide also spoke to us about the human devastation.  I was very somber and starting to become emotional as we listened to his account of his family’s survival of the bombing.  As he spoke, he flipped through a notebook full of photos.  He pulled out another and was going to show something else to us when we saw a peek at some of the other contents of the book and the other notebooks books in his possession.  It was filled with propaganda against the American military and equated other bombings and even some of Sadaam Husein’s chemical weapon tests/usage on his own people, with the Hiroshima atomic bomb.

That’s when I felt a little used.

I felt like he was purposefully playing our emotions, specifically as Americans, and that if we weren’t Americans, we would’ve gotten a completely different lecture – one filled with a list of accusations of all sorts against the American military and government. 

This was an absolutely devastating bombing.  Seeing the hypocenter in person made me think.  It has made me question the use of atomic weapons.  It made me question some of what I believe about national defense.  It made me weep for the families who lost their loved ones, for the helpless children and nameless victims.

There were virtually no buildings within 2 km (1.24 miles) of the hypocenter that survived the blast.

But what I felt like they did wrongly was that throughout all of the memorials and museum, the Japanese have only documented how they are victims of this terrible bombing.  There was no history of what lead up to the war, no acknowledgment of responsibility for the murder and torture of thousands of Koreans and Chinese, just to name a couple.  There was no remorse for the unwarranted Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor that started the war between the two countries in the first place.  There’s no real mention of the Japanese balloon bombs sent over the ocean to kill American civilians.  I felt like all of this was needed to put into context how we ended up in that position in the first place.  That part of history simply isn’t being taught, at least at the memorial it isn’t obvious from what I could tell, and that’s wrong.

We had to wade past hoards of Japanese school children throughout the entire day.  It was an endless sea of students singing peace songs, donating their paper cranes, and visiting the museum.  I think that before and during the war, the Japanese were constantly bombarded with imperialistic propaganda.  They were taught that they were better than all of their Asian neighbors and the country was decidedly pro-war (something that was confirmed by our Edo museum guide, who grew up in that era).  Now, the Japanese are taught from very early on about peace, and how everything must be done to preserve peace.  I think that all Japanese students probably make a pilgrimage to the war museum in Hiroshima so that they can all see the effects of such a horrible bombing first hand. 

I’m not saying that this is all bad.  I just wonder if it’s beneficial to only teach one idea to entire generations (conquer and suppress thy neighbor vs. peace at any cost).  I don’t know how and if atomic bombs should be used again (I haven’t quite figured out how I feel about it), but I do know that the threat of them – whether perceived or legitimate – has also saved lives in some situations (just an observation, not necessarily an endorsement). 

After a very thought-provoking tour of the atomic bomb museum, we headed over to check out more of the city.

We made it just in time to tour the rebuilt Hiroshima castle, but not before finding our first Mr. Donut. 


We were so excited that we all had to go in and feed our nostalgia.  (We had a Mister Donut near our apartment in Osaka and frequented the establishment quite often).

At the castle, we were able to climb out onto the keep on the top floor.  It was about three feet deep and circled the entire floor with a metal cage to keep people from falling off.  My hands got too sweaty from the height and strong breeze (I’m a certified scaredy cat of heights.  I can’t even watch high-altitude action scenes without getting sweaty palms), so I didn’t really get to enjoy the beautiful views. 

My hands are sweating looking at the photo below and remembering that shallow ledge and the distance from the ground. 

You’d bounce at least a couple of times if you fell from there. 

I imagined that I’d probably slip, slide down the second-highest story’s sloped roof, unable to grab a hold of anything to stop my descent, and then roll off the edge of the roof, bouncing off of each lower roof line before finally landing on the castle steps.


Are your hands sweating yet?

No, just me?

The next day we took a ferry out to Miyajima, an island just off of the coast of Hiroshima.  This was one of my favorite days of the whole trip.

Miyajima is a sleepy little island that is only accessible by ferry.  It has a famous Shinto Shrine and is picturesque, thus resulting in it becoming a bit of a tourist trap in some areas. 

View from the ferry, looking at the red Tori gate and Mt. Mismen in the background.

The shrine is a beautiful wooden building built along the shore so that at high tide, it is surrounded by water.


Above is a kabuki stage where plays were performed for the local villagers.  They sat on the facing deck (where I was standing when I took the photo) with the water between them and the stage at high tide.

We decided to hike up to the top of Mt. Mismen, so we walked upward toward the edge of the forest.  I felt like we were in an Indiana Jones movie, hiking through an ancient jungle or something.

The climb up  was extremely steep and definitely gave us a good gluteus maximus workout for the day. 

At the top, there was a lookout post with a very small restaurant/convenience store.  I think I paid $4 for an 8oz drink and we all shared.  There are no roads or ropeways to the top of the mountain, so they have to bring supplies up to the neighboring peak and then carry them up to the very top. 

The views from the ascent were breathtaking.


On our way back down, we took a different route.  Close to the bottom, we came up upon this hidden temple, nestled in the middle of the woods.  It was like finding a lost city.  I wish I had taken more photos of the temple area and buildings; it was like a scene straight out of a samurai movie.

On our way back to the train station, we happened to find a small pottery shop.  It is a third generation shop, complete with potter’s wheel and kiln.  They had rows and rows of beautiful pieces, and I bought several items for myself and as gifts (but could have bought the whole store!).  They hand-wrapped each piece and gave us some print outs with the family shop’s history (in English, no less).


Afterward, Amanda and Wade tried to catch the Hiroshima Carp professional baseball game, but Amy, Ryan, Matt, and I were whipped from all of the hiking and found a cozy little sports bar near our hostel and enjoyed the game on a big screen tv with the locals.  There are some things that we couldn’t understand, but cheering for your home team and cursing out the pitcher when he makes a mistake are pretty universally understood.

The next morning, we headed off to Osaka…

Saturday, September 25, 2010

Coopah

Coop-ah.  That's what I call Cooper, our failed foster.


 Cooper is a sweetie pie.  He was our third foster from Weimaraner Rescue of the South.  He's a "failed foster" because we decided we couldn't let him go.  When a family was interested in adopting him, we pulled rank and adopted him ourselves (a perk of being a foster). 

Matt's deal was that if we keep Cooper, we can't foster anymore.


That's fine with me.  Three is more than enough.

We've gotten used to his quirks by now.  Quirks that include some separation anxiety, "goosing", talking, and serious drooling when he knows food is imminent.


Like when I said "treat?!" as I was trying to get him to look at the camera.

It's gross when he drools on my toes in the morning as I'm feeding him.

Yuck.

He's also a bit accident prone.  He's always banging up his head.  He split his forehead open on the back door and had to get ten stitches.  He was doing his retarded/nervous side-to-side dance whenever he's locked outside and people are inside.  I guess he swung too far to the side and bashed his head on either the door trim or the brick corner.


He had to wear that goofy cone of shame for a week or so.  As you can see, he walked into EVERYTHING with it. Thankfully, none of the interior of our house looked like the edge of his cone by the end of the week.

We've had some issues sorting out who're the "pack leaders" of the house.  Like Cypress, Cooper had no problems recognizing Matt as the boss.  He and I had to work that out a bit.

It involved me sitting on him in the living room one night.

We didn't take a photo of that.


I really like having Cooper around whenever Matt goes out of town.  I haven't felt so safe sleeping all alone since my dad first got me a 32-Beretta Tomcat for my 21st birthday.

But I think one of the best parts about having Coopie around is that Matt now has his own dog.  Not that the other two aren't his, but Cooper simply loves Matt best and he's a very good "man's dog".

They wrestle in the living room and hang out together in the yard.


Every man should have a dog.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Yeah, well...

Okay, so I officially suck at this blog thing.  (Sorry, Mom, I know "suck" isn't ladylike!)

I'm not even going to promise that I'll post more often.  I've got post topics that have been sitting in my draft box and brain for weeks and weeks.

What I can do is show you some really neat photos that I found while reading one of the trashiest news sites around.  (HC, do you want to fist bump?)


From the U.K Daily Mail:

Photographers Jean-Louis Klein and Marie-Luce Hubert, both from the Alsace, France, spent the year snapping the furry subjects in a project that ended with their release into the wild.

Laying patiently in meadows and reed beds, the pair were able to capture the fascinating images.




Y'all, I love these photos.  I don't even like mice.  When a mouse family inhabited my empty flower pots in the garage last spring, I released Ace-the-mighty-hunter to root them out each night.  Over a course of several weeks, he finally got them all!

These photos make me feel kind of bad about that.

But then I remember how freaked out I was each time one would scurry across the garage.  Right. In. Front. Of. Me.

Shudder.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

June

Omigosh, it's July!

June was a whirlwind for us.  Anybody else?  I swear that we were non-stop all month.  I am always hoping that things will slow down, but they never seem to.  I can't wait until I am done with class.  I am looking forward to having some of my evenings and free time back. (Oh, wait, that's me hoping again...)

 Toyota trucks of all shapes, sizes, and colors meeting up before going on a trail ride.
(this was only a fraction of the whole group)

We started out June still recovering from jet lag and then soon packed up the truck to go the Great Smokey Mountain Trail Ride. It's an event put on by the Toyota Land Cruiser Association.  Matt goes on this trail ride every year with his brother, Michael, who co-owns ACC and Smoking Gun Custom Powder Coating, which are sponsors for the trail ride.  This year, Matt asked me if I might like to tag along. 

One of Michael's customers, Josh, won the rock crawling competition.  It was a lot of fun to watch!

I had a really good time and it was really nice to see all of the people, trucks, and events that Matt talks about every year.  I rode with Michael on the trail two days and had a lot of fun.  We generally got out of the truck whenever we reached a really steep or tricky spot to investigate the best route.  It wasn't until just before Michael's alternator died on the trail on the last day, resulting in a jump start, that I actually rode on the really tough stuff with him.  Not because I don't trust him, but it scares me!  Still, he is a great driver and his truck is incredibly capable (you wouldn't believe the stuff these trucks move over, the pictures are deceiving as to the inclines and roughness of the terrain) and I felt pretty safe with him.

 Michael in his spring green '71 FJ-40 (Land Cruiser). 

We took our newest K9 addition, Cooper, along for the three day/three night camping trip and I think he had a very good time too.  Of course we were all whipped, smelly, and mosquito-bitten by the time we got home...

I may pass on this trip next time.  ;)


Oh, and of course it's ultimate frisbee season.  I've had fun catching a couple of the boys' games (Matt and Wade are on the same team this year) with Amanda and Staci. I think it's more of a social outing for us and we're often caught up in a conversation when one of our husbands scores or makes an awesome layout.  (Don't tell them that.)


I've decided that I need to get a telephoto lens.  My kit lens makes taking action shots from the sidelines all but impossible. Oh well, this fuzzy pre-throw photo will have to suffice.


Moving on.

I haven't really bought very many plants this year.  Partly because I'm maxing out on flower space, but mostly because I just haven't had enough time to keep everything weeded/fertilized/sprayed, etc. like I have in the past.  However, some of the sweet ladies at Dave's Garden set up a swap where newbies (that's me) could get a box full of daylilies in exchange for postage.

One of my sponsors ended up being a lady who lives a mile from my house!  Can you believe that?  She let me come over one day in May and we dug up a few plants for me to take home. Then, she sweetly invited me over at the end of June to see her beds in full bloom.

I was jealous.



She has something like 200-300 different cultivars of daylilies.  She's got several beds completely dedicated to them, and they truly are a sight.  I've never seen so many colors, patterns, heights, and styles.  She should charge admission to those flower beds, they were so pretty.

I think I may have drooled a little.



I just have to remind myself that I already have some beautiful daylilies!


On a side note, aren't those pictures gorgeous!  They're straight of the camera (because I don't know how to edit anyway).  I'm still not very good with my DSLR yet, but I think my flower photos are turning out exceptionally well.  I still need practice in any other environment other than the yard in early evening, but I am in love with these results.  These photos were taken with the kit lens too, not even the nicer lens that my dad loaned me.

Anyway.

Around the end of June, my high school class had its 10 year reunion.  I could not decide if I wanted to go for the longest time.  It's not that I didn't love my friends in high school, but I haven't kept up with most of them since college, and just thinking about those years (the most insecure of my life!) still makes me shiver.  That, and I'm so uncompetitive about what I've "accomplished" in the last ten years.  I am pretty content with where and who I am in life and wasn't sure if it was going to be one of those competitions on who lives in the neatest place, makes the most money, has the cutest kid/coolest job, etc. 

Jenny, me, and Lauren.  10 years later.

I caught up with one of my very good friends right before the reunion weekend and at the last minute decided to go ahead and attend the informal night, which hadn't required prior reservations.  I'm really glad I did.  There were several girls/guys that I have missed so much and I got to see almost all of them.

One of my girlfriends went to the formal reunion night and picked up some stuff for me out of the time capsule, including a letter she wrote me and one I wrote myself ten years ago.  It was kind of fun to read what 17-year-old Becca had to say to 27-year-old Becca. 

As I was reading, I thought, "wow, I was so mature.  I had some really good insight."

And then I got to the page where I listed all of my crushes and boyfriends since 4th grade.


Some of what I hoped for the future turned out to be true (some things not so true):
In 10 years from now, I'd like...
- to be out of college with a solid degree? doctor architectural engineering?
- married to a strong Christian, happily married
- possibly a kid or two
- to advance my Christian growth, a lot
- still keep in touch with my family & Alisha
- to have waited until marriage
- to be able to own my own house & a car I picked out
- to still be in love with my husband
- to further mi espanol
- to find a good church I enjoy attending
- to have a figure
Haha!  All sounds like serious goal setting until that last one.

Wow, this must be a record-long post.  Anyone still reading?

(crickets chirping)

Oh well.

Back to flowers.

If you're still reading and not tired of flower photos yet, here are a few more...


I love this red and pink clematis on the left and the lacecap hydrangea on the right.  The white shasta daisies are fun and cheered up my desk at work last week.  Something about fresh flowers on my desk makes me happy.

And here is my double hydrangea, 'Together'.  I think the flowers on this plant are really striking.  I'm trying to eventually turn it blue, but the pink is pretty too.


That's all for now. 

Adios.