Yum. We had the best breakfast today for Scott's special day. I'm big on birthday breakfast, lunch and dinner for that matter. Scrambled Eggs (whipped with cream for the extra fluffy affect) Bacon (center cut only -- cooked until just crisped) Mashed Potato Pancakes* Bloody Mary (made with ZingZang , courtesy of intro from the Tuckers) *Wicked good. We had filets and mashed potatoes last night. I took the leftover taters, combined with an egg, a tablespoon of flour, minced onion, goat cheese, salt, pepper and paprika. Cooked in canola oil, eight minutes per side over medium heat. INCREDIBLE!! Now, we're off to the circus, where we will eat $12 snow cones...followed by dinner at the Varsity for chili dogs. We're celebrating the first number of his age this year.

I know plenty, but that's another post. I'm talking about real tools--be they hammers and nails, the right camera, a laptop, common sense--whatever it takes to get the job done. Having the right tools makes all the difference in the quality of the product and of course, the time it takes to get it done. We have spent years working on the lake house to update, improve, beautify...whatever. There is something to be said in doing it yourself and seeing the result (after fumbling your way through it, learning as you go). I have taken much pride in finishing cabinets, replacing lights, staining decks, planting gardens and so on. But in the past few days, I have learned to love not doing the work and Scott has started a career as a general contractor. Glorious carpenters, electricians, painters...the people who get paid to do things we've attempted to do ourselves. What takes us an entire weekend takes them three hours. Yes, it's the knowledge, but it's also the rig

The transition from vacation to reality has been particularly difficult this go round. I suppose that's what happens when you spend seven days in Paradise on the ultimate high, and come back to the ultimate low of an insane job, temporary residence, house hunting, and the will I ever get married anxiety. Yep, coulda spent another month there, no complaints. Maybe forever. I'm trying to keep the vacation vibe alive, which even under normal circumstances is next to impossible. This is why I've been wearing my hair curly and using the word "whatever" frequently. It's called fooling yourself, and I am really good at it. It's also a delay tactic to confronting all of the tasks and decisions ahead of me. Work doesn't care. It just hurls a giant bowl of bullshit and I have no choice but to deal with it. The rest, I can choose and therein lies the issue. I figure, Scott's birthday is this weekend so that's shot for house hunting and Ellie's c

I dare to mutter it aloud, but it is our last (planned) evening in Mexico and oh how amazing it has been. Le Reve is truly a dream--nevermind the French name in a Spanish-speaking country. We walked down the beach to the North today, sightseeing all the mega resorts. Free-range chickens--that what Scott calls the rows and rows of people on beach chairs stacked on top of one another in roped off areas. Not our little slice of heaven. Like a gift from God the sea is calm and waves are kissing the coral rock on the shore as I write this. We finished a day snuggled on the beach. Now it's off to Playa del Carmen tonight, for a meal in town and maybe a little shopping (Mexican pottery addiction is no where near cured), only to return to yet one more amazing perk of this paradise when we are done. Turn down service. And not just any. Untied white and flowing canopies surrounding the bed, the mahogany and glass door to the terrace cracked just enough to let the cool night air in, a

Not surprisingly, our hotel in Mexico hosts a lot of weddings.   Intimate affairs, where the wedding party and guests assume control over the entire exquisite property. While there are no events planned while we’re here, we have discovered that the hotel is also a top location for wedding photos. I’m not talking about your typical wedding photos—round up the wedding party and everyone take 1-2 hours after the ceremony to smile until your cheeks hurt. I’m talking about wedding photos resembling a magazine shoot taken a week before your big day in a private, professional, and likely high dollar, session. Our first experience with this was Tuesday. We thought they were models and it was a promotional shoot for Traveler or Bride’s. Nope. Just a couple getting married on Friday who was shooting their wedding pics at our hotel. This isn’t a Mexico thing. The photographer, an Atlanta boy (coincidence?) who moved down here to marry his wife and start Del Sol photography, explained the ge

I have high expectations of myself. Everyone and everything else, not so much. In fact, I am often waiting to be disappointed. You never know—looking at hotels and destinations on the web—how much they resemble reality, and what exactly you are going to get. "Garden Room" and "Veranda" are highly subjective terms especially when the country you are visiting is not native English-speaking.  My recommendation to this establishment? Get a new photographer.  We arrived in Mexico just yesterday and our hotel is more than was imagined or could have been conceived possible through a couple of pictures. It is absolutely freakin' amazing. With just 25 rooms, we basically have the place to ourselves and don't have to listen Aunt Marge from Indianapolis talk about her bunions (the #1 reason we "don't do" all inclusive resorts).  We are in a top floor Master Suite. Not so much of a “suite”, but the dark deck flooring and white sheer canopies through

I am cursed, no blessed, no cursed with incredibly lucid dreams. My subconscious is a terrible taunt and reminder of past lives that play out like modern day fables through my nighttime adventures. And then there's the flip side--my future subconscious that carves my path and makes decision without regard for my opinion and surprise, the next day (or soon thereafter) they are reality. It's true this is a characteristic of my "type" (INFJ) but it's just plain weird. At times I wish lobotomies were still practiced.  I went through a period of a couple weeks where no joke, half of my friends were having my boyfriend's baby. Night after night, another child. I am ordering up paternity tests, stat. I work a lot in my dreams--solving problems and coming up with answers. Unfortunately, I wake up thinking I already resolved it (in real life) and then don't get to it for a day or two. Unexplainably (word?), a somewhat insignificant former like interest (in