Kevin & my dad have returned safely from their sea kayaking adventure in one piece and without any stolen rocks. Yesterday, we all decided to go see a Beavers’ baseball game. They are the farm team for the Padres here in Portland. There’s nothing like watching a ball game in a stadium. For whatever reason, I am unable to sit through a game on tv. It’s so slow and I can never see the ball. But put me in the bleachers and I’m totally engrossed. Maybe it’s the possibility of catching a fly ball or hearing the crack of the bat or being able to see the ball as it whizzes over the plate. Whatever it is, I just love it. And the best part is, because the Beavers are merely a farm team, there are always seats and the prices are cheap. I think you can get tickets for 2.99. Amazing.

But today Kevin tromped off to work and I dropped my dad at the airport. I’m trying to decide what my next project will be. I’ve been reading like crazy for some reason. There’s something about sitting on the adarondak chair outside in the sunshine that drives all thoughts of work from my head. Ah well, it’s only Monday. I’m sure I’ll get inspired to do something before the weekend. Hee hee.

I’m a bit worried.

I have just sent my husband and father off to Washington for a weekend of sea kayaking. Now, considering that the last time those two goobers drove off together they pillaged a national forest, I’m thinking my fears are justified. I sudder to think what kind of trouble they can get into in a kayak. I’m quite sure one or both of them will be swept out to sea while trying to swim with an orca whale or some such nonsense. Keep your fingers crossed for me, ok?

Yesterday was rough. It was a cosmically cursed day I think. My dad left his keys in a motel room in Colorado. He didn’t realize it until he was in Salt Lake City. Luckily, good old FedEx Overnight came to the rescue. At the same time he was searching his luggage looking desperately for his keys, I was searching my wallet looking desperately for a lost credit card. Turns out the cashier took it to check my signature and forgot to give it back! Once I realized the card was gone, I called Wells Fargo to inform them. Only problem was, they refused to cancel the card because I didn’t know the telephone PIN for our account! Heck, I didn’t even know there was a telephone PIN. So after a very frustrating 15 minutes with an evil customer service person, I hung up. Can you believe it? My card is lost and the credit card company refuses to cancel it or put a hold on it. It was all very surreal. Thankfully, Josh came to the rescue and we tracked down what store had it so it all worked out. Just a strange day I suppose.

Still unable to fix our web site. Sigh. But we haven’t given up hope yet! Kevin has vowed to MAKE IT WORK so watch out cgi-bin ’cause Kevin is on a mission!

I have been trying to work on the website lately but all my great plans have been thwarted by something called the cgi-bin. I’m not quite sure what this bin is or where it is located but it appears to be vitally important and helplessly broken. In fact, the bin is the culprit behind the broken guestbook. I have been asking Kevin to look into this bin error since, oh, April but so far he’s been too busy to really sit down and work it out. He’ll get started and then storm off grumpy – poor man. Until it is resolved, I’m afraid my grand plans are on hold. Sigh.

Oh a side note, I have finally found bad TV that I don’t like. Yes, that’s right, there is actually a show on that I refuse to watch. Magnum PI. I have no idea why I have this aversion to Magnum PI but as soon as I hear the opening music and see that shot of the orange/brown helicopter, I find myself desperately seeking the remote. My dislike is so great that if I can’t find the remote quick enough, I will actually turn the channel manually. Yes, I will get off the sofa and physically flip the channel. Scary, no? I don’t know what it is about the show. Maybe it’s seeing Tom Selleck’s very hairy legs protruding from a pair of way too short shorts or the horrid brown/orange/tan outfits that dominated the late seventies. Whatever it is, it sends me fleeing from the tv in horror. Now I know how Kevin feels whenever I make him watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

And finally, the latest Elizabeth Peters mystery, Lord of Silent, was excellent as usual. Makes me want to tromp off to Egypt and dig around for some tombs myself.

Can’t dawdle inside today. I must practice my watercolors. Being a lady of leisure has its demands you know!

I have entered a new stage of my life. The baby stage.

First, there was the marriage craze where everyone I know was running around buying rings and taking vows. Next, came the house buying craze where everyone seemed to be heading into escrow/was in escrow/had just completed escrow.

Now, it’s babies.

Suzy had a baby, Jill had a baby, Shanda had a baby, Andrea had a baby, Anna is expecting a baby. I tell you, they’re everywhere. I can’t turn around without bumping into someone who has baby news and it’s beginning to scare me.

Every time Kevin and I have a meaningful baby discussion that doesn’t crack us up into hysterical laughter at the mere thought of us as parents, our conclusion is a resounding, “duh, I dunno know, what do you think?”

I’m thinking this means we’re not ready, right? I mean, aren’t kids something you really really want? I always envisioned I’d wake up one morning and just KNOW that it was time. But so far, each morning I wake up without a baby revelation. Just a big dog with a very full bladder.

On the one hand, a kid could be fun. On the other, a kid sounds like a crazy amount of work/sacrifice for something that eventually turns sixteen (shudder). But we rode the marriage wave and are totally blissfully happy. Our house is, by far, the best investment we’ve ever made. A kid is next of the list of life but for some reason, both of us are standing on the edge of this cliff was a serious case of cold feet.

A marriage you can end. A house you can sell. But as far as I know, there’s no return programs in place for children. Sort of the you-break-it-you-buy-it deal.

So am I totally crazy for having a fear of babies? Does this mean I should just stick to pets? Am I destined to become the crazy auntie with 50 cats?

Oh look, it’s time for lunch. I guess that’s enough soul searching for one day.

I have recieved a complaint about my siesta plan. Some people are under the misguided impression that I no longer work and, therefore, have no need for a siesta. That is not true. I do work, only now it is a self-imposed work schedule. This has it’s benefits and drawbacks.

If you work for someone else, you have to do what they say on their time schedule even if you don’t feel like it. Your boss says show up Monday at 8am and you do. This is the down side. The up side is, you get paid.

Now my work is, admittedly, slightly different. A normal afternoon task, for instance, may be “sit on the deck and finish your book” or “play in the park with your dog.” The up side is I get to do fun stuff. The down side is, no one pays me.

And so, after a hard afternoon of listing to my inner moppet, I too may need a nice nap to recharge my system before settling down for an episode of Changing Spaces. It ain’t easy being a full time bum you know!

I’m sitting here in the basement listening to Kevin attempt to install some corner shelves. It’s actually quite hilarious to listen to him. Sort of like watching TV with the sound turned of. But reversed. Kind of.

Anyhow, there’s lots of hammer pounding and then “SON OF A GUN THAT HURT” followed by more pounding. Then some whistling which is interrupted by “YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME”. So far, the language has been G rated but he’s been at it for over an hour and has one (almost level) shelve installed. But he seems to be enjoying himself so I’ve left him pretty much alone. Until the blood starts gushing I figure he’s pretty safe. I just wish I could tape record him working. It would crack you up. I often wonder why he insists on picking hobbies that seem to aggrivate him so much. I’m thinking I may need to introduce him to bird watching or some other non-stress related activity.

On the news the other day they were talking about some medical study that says people who take a nap in the afternoon work harder and learn quicker. I might have to impliment this into my life because I find myself vegging out around 3ish. I think my body is trying to tell me that I need a little siesta. The hard part is kicking the cats/dog off the bed. They’ve already figured out this whole napping thing and can be real cover hogs.

Oh dear, the first shelve Kevin installed appears to have fallen down. This is not a good sign. But he hasn’t started throwing anything yet so there’s still hope. Check back tomorrow and I’ll give you an update.