Summer of Visitors

Our house has been less like a single-family home this summer and more like a bed and breakfast. It's been wonderful to entertain friends and family from across the country. Rather than compose a lengthy post for each visit, I thought I'd try to sum up each with just a couple photos. This was not an easy task.

When my college friend Andrea visited, I took her to her first Orioles baseball game (which necessitates trips to my favorite neighborhood bars):
...and she took me by the White House. After nearly four years here, I can't believe I've never walked by 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue:

When my parents and sister visited, we went to Gettysburg (no shocker there):
...and we spent a day at the beach. Okay, so we were near the beach.

When former coworkers/bestie friends Rebecca and Anna visited, we spent an evening peering into the lawn of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue from the rooftop bar of the W Hotel (can you see the sniper on that big white house behind us?):
...and we spent far too much time (though not nearly enough money) trying on nearly every shoe in my favorite store, Ma Petite Shoe:

I love how unique the experiences of each of our visitors were. I also love how living here gives us the chance to see the amazing places that surround us with a unique perspective every time someone new comes to town. The doors to our bed and breakfast are always open. Please come back soon.

In a pickle

I've always wanted to learn how to make pickles. I had heard it was easy, but I was always a little wary, due in no small part to a very memorable episode of The Andy Griffith Show. I figured summer vacation would provide me with enough chances to practice, so I took the pickle plunge a couple weeks ago.

Before:
After:

I don't have any idea how Aunt Bee managed to turn her cucumbers into kerosene-flavored catastrophes. I do know, however, that I'm still not entering my tasty creations in any county fairs any time soon.

Mad for Midwives

Midwives: they're not just for pregnant women anymore. Without getting into too much detail for my male and/or squeamish readers, I have to share how much I loved my recent well-woman visit at a Baltimore-area midwife.

During my last such visit with a doctor, I was rushed in and out and had to coax her to stay in the room for a few extra minutes so I could ask some questions (and the less said about where and how she ordered lunch that day, the better).

During my time with my midwife, however, I didn't feel like a patient, a number or a billable hour. I felt like a real, unique person who had questions, concerns and--apparently--a very healthy uterus. In all my years of visits to doctors, no one ever told me that my body was healthy. My midwife told me that my body was healthy and normal, giving me not only reassurance, but also dignity.

Forget all the statistics and research about how beneficial midwives can be for women, babies and families. Our health is about choosing the care that will make us comfortable and secure. For many women, that means seeing a doctor. For me, that now means seeing a midwife.

Governor Palin? It's your editor on line 1.

I have to give a huge shout-out to Abbi who said "If we don't laugh, we'll cry" about this Vanity Fair posting. Ironically--or perhaps, appropriately--I laughed until I cried when I read it. Click the image for the full-size, three-page version.

In fairness to Governor Palin, I think most of us would sound like this if we spoke off the cuff. On the other hand, there are few things funnier to me than political humor and grammar humor. Throw them together with a touch of historical humor, and I'm down for the count.

Barley vs. the bunny

When we first adopted Barley, Matt had high hopes of taking him bird hunting. He bought all sorts of tools that are supposed to train bird dogs, and he encouraged Barley to notice birds on our walks and trips to the dog park. Sadly, however, genetics trumped training. While Matt was trying to get Barley excited about the pigeons, Barley was obsessed with bunnies, squirrels and cats. Barley is part foxhound, and those instincts just couldn't be squelched.

So, while Barley gets spooked by inanimate objects, his foxhound instincts kick in whenever he sees small furry animals. I would post a video of his reaction to this particular furry friend, but I think it may be too disturbing for our canine readers.

I take solace in the fact that if we ever move to the hills of western Maryland, Barley will be the envy of all our squirrel-hunting neighbors.

Life is Just a Day at the Beach

Ah, summer vacation!

Matt and I took a mid-week trip to the beach this week.


The weather was perfect, the views were amazing and the beach was deserted. On the flip side, Matt got stung by a jellyfish and we both got some nasty sunburn. Yes, the lives of a government employee and a teacher are rough this time of year, but we're making do.

Wedding Snafu

Some good friends of ours are getting married in just a few weeks. Along with all the last-minute stress and crazy details that every engaged couple has to deal with as the big day approaches, they also have the good fortune of tracking down this bright wedding guest (or, as it appears, guests):

I say, give them all kids' meals to teach them a lesson about proofreading.

Hometown Pride

Part of me wonders which Chanhassen resident slipped the editors at Money magazine a bribe. Part of me wonders if there's a Chanhassen in California that they meant to feature. Part of me wonders if they've visited in January.

But most of me wonders what took them so long to figure out what a great place Chanhassen is and what a wonderful place it was to grow up.

Barley vs. the watermelon rind

Watching Barley stalk completely harmless objects is one of my very favorite pastimes. Appropriately enough, stalking completely harmless objects is one of his. Enjoy this video of him with his most recent nemesis--the oft-feared watermelon rind.

And, yes, that is an old dishwasher on our deck. I'll post more on that later.

Around the world in 365 days

While scouring YouTube and other such reputable sources for up-to-date supplementary materials for my 9th graders, I discovered this story of one man's modern-day Odyssey. His goal is to visit every country in the world (and by "every country" he means the 192 U.N. member states) in a single year. The most interesting part of the journey is that he's vowed not to take any planes or cars, but to rely on public transportation and the kindness of strangers as much as possible. Hopefully, he can also avoid all Cyclopses and Sirens.

I'm just sorry I'm discovering him mid-way through his journey. Hopefully, he'll have a successful finish before we get to Homer's epic this winter.

Ugh...this class is full of teachers

I took a course this week on how to teach an Advanced Placement test. Unlike my other education courses, which are a nice mix of current and future teachers, this class has nothing but current teachers. Some of them have been teaching for several years, and many of them are taking this class simply because someone else is paying for it.

Growing up with parents as teachers, I remember hearing stories about how teachers are the worst students. I always found this contradictory and assumed it to be untrue. After all, we spend nine months of the year standing in front of a group of students; surely, we would exhibit proper classroom behavior when seated on the other side of the desk. Sadly, this isn't the case. I wish my classmates were my students, so I could have told them...

"Sally, would you please hang up your cell phone? The people sitting behind you do not need to hear what you're having for dinner tonight."

"Davey, we'll have plenty of time for breaks later. Leaving class six times in one morning for vending machine snacks is unacceptable."

"Suzie, when I said you could take a free book, I meant A free book. Please return the other five."

"Sally and Suzie, please hold your conversation until the end of class. At the very least, try a whisper on for size."

"Stevie, you're an hour and a half late. That's five tardies in a row, mister."

And the list goes on and on...and on. This class made me eager for September when I'm the only teacher in the room again.

Wordless Wednesday meets West Side Story meets the World Wide Web

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

The big purse

I am not a big purse person. Some have even commented on my lack of understanding of those who carry a big purse. This may be true, but there is one instance in which I dig out my one and only big purse from the back of the closet. There is one time, usually every 2-3 months or so, when being frugal trumps being fashionable: a trip to the movies.


I bought this purse backpack solely for the purpose of smuggling contraband food and beverages into movie theaters. My all-time greatest feat was to carry in an entire angel food cake, along with assorted beverages. Over this holiday weekend, Matt and I went to see The Hangover, and the purse made its appearance once again, stuffed to the brim with a bag of microwave popcorn, 2 cans of pop, some cookies and a jumbo bag of Swedish Fish. This was hardly my record, but it still took some creative maneuvering.

Even though I'm nearly 30 and never get stopped by movie theater personnel anymore (since most of them are either half my age or three times it), I still get a rush from my movie theater smuggles. I spend most of the car ride to the theater arranging and rearranging the items in the bag so that it doesn't bulge strangely or expose any food. I bring a sweater along with me "because theaters are so cold," and strategically drape it over any food or drink that may poke out the top. My heart jumps a little when I walk by the "No outside food or beverage" sign, and I feel a sense of smug satisfaction when I look at the prices for movie theater food. I wait to pull out my popcorn or open my can of pop until the lights are low and the previews are loud, just in case a staff member is lurking. And when the movie is finally over, I pick up the big purse from the sticky floor and leave an empty microwave popcorn bag in the cup holder: a calling card, if you will, to let the theater know that the big purse and I have won this round.

Watered-down organic

Whenever possible, Matt and I try our very best to buy USDA-certified organic products. We recognize that it's more expensive, but for the sake of our health and for the good of the planet, we figured it was a justified expense. But after reading this Washington Post article over the weekend, I'm not so sure. The increasingly lax standards as they apply to baby food were especially shocking.

I read that story, and I felt like I'd been duped. How can something be labeled as "organic," yet still contain all sorts of chemicals, pesticides and additives? If the ultimate focus of the organic label at the USDA is to grow the brand instead of enforce strict environmental and health standards, is buying organic products even worth the expense? I'm not sure anymore.

Happy 4th of July!

Though I'm not really sure how the Swedish Chef fits in with American Independence Day (unless it's Muppet commentary on immigration policies; but I digress once again), this video is still a great way to celebrate today's holiday:



May your holiday be further enriched by these gratuitous, yet adorable, photos of Barley in his celebratory attire:

Here's to another year of living in a country that grants us, as Franklin Delano Roosevelt so eloquently put it, "freedom of speech, freedom of worship, freedom from want, freedom from fear." And as we move through this upcoming year toward our next Independence Day, let us also strive toward another of FDR's mantras: "The test of our progress is not whether we add more to the abundance of those who have much; it is whether we provide enough for those who have little."

If we were bumper sticker people...

Aside from the Obama magnet I sported on my car for most of 2008 and the orange "O" magnet on the back of Matt's Buick, we are not bumper sticker people. Within the span of about a day and a half, however, I saw two bumper stickers that really need to be added to our cars:



Apparently, I'd also "rather be" a bumper sticker person.

Dear Tourmobile,

Last week, while my family was visiting from Minnesota, we purchased tickets for your “Twilight Tour” of the monuments. We arrived to the Tourmobile in plenty of time, but were surprised and disappointed when the bus was already full. As more and more frustrated people assembled on the sidewalk behind us, we all began to assume that we’d have to wait until the next night for our tour. Then, we met Larry.

Larry was to be a guide on the bus for your guests with disabilities and had no intention of leading a separate tour that evening. Without hesitation, however, Larry began to make calls and organize for a second tour bus and driver. Somehow, he managed to transform 50 hot, angry tourists into 50 happy, laughing people, all of whom were already thankful that the first bus was full.

As the evening went on, Larry continued to go out of his way for all of us. I’ve been on several Washington, D.C. tours with many visitors, but I’ve never had a guide as knowledgeable and personable as Larry. At the end of the evening, when our tour ended later than expected, he even offered to give guests a ride to the Metro instead of simply leaving them at Union Station.

When I first found out how oversold our tour was, I vowed to use another tour company with future guests. Thanks to Larry, I am a lifelong Tourmobile customer.

(Sent June 30th)