And reality sets in...

Even before we'd submitted the offer, we find out that it's already been bid up - in an attempt to win, the other offers have gotten higher and higher, and so pretty well taken it out of our price range.  No suprise in this market, but a sad reality check that affordable housing is pretty scarce, even with the gov't incentive.

EEK!

Found a house we think could work... putting in an offer on said house... trying not to get hopes up, as we know we're not the only offer... now it's just pray and wait and see!

Where is HGTV when you need them?

House-hunting - at least in this market - is an endurance sport. It's also an educational experience.
It's funny, how when I was growing up, I always thought of buying a house as a very grown-up activity. Now that I'm engaged in said activity, I quite often feel like a 10-year-old. ;)

Happy Birthday, Zach!

Happy Birthday to my "little" brother... 29 years ago, my life became a lot less quiet, and a LOT more interesting! I'm glad I got to share growing up with you! Love you!

Just wondering...

We've all had songs stuck in our heads. Over the weekend and well into this week, the song in my head has been "I L.O.V.E. my C.U.B.E. Nissan" ... no, I'm serious. It's a Canadian thing - and no, I'm not claiming to be a Canadian, but I have a good friend who is, and she sent me a youtube link to the song... and.... well.... it's catchy. (Just go to youtube and search C.U.B.E. Nissan)

Anyway, the point here is that early last week, I found myself extremely grieved/heavy-hearted over some things going on with people close to me. In the midst of it all, this period of time when I couldn't think or pray coherently, when it felt like all I could do was cry, I realized that there was an old hymn stuck in my head. It was there without my realizing it - I was singing it almost before I remembered it.

The hymn? "I Must Tell Jesus!"

Verse 1:
I must tell Jesus all of my trials,
I cannot bear these burdens alone;
In my distress He kindly will help me,
He ever loves and cares for His own.

Refrain:
I must tell Jesus! I must tell Jesus!
I cannot bear my burdens alone;
I must tell Jesus! I must tell Jesus!
Jesus can help me, Jesus alone.

Here's my favorite part: I have not sung, not discussed, not thought about this song in years - and by years, I mean at least fifteen years. And yet in a heartbeat, I remembered it perfectly!
Coincidence? Perhaps. Or maybe you'll agree with me, that it was the timely reminder of a faithful God that He's big enough to handle everything weighing me down, and that I didn't need to try deal with it on my own!

This experience then led me to start thinking about that idea of running to Jesus, casting our burdens on Him... but then I started to wonder, in this self-help era, have we forgotten how to do that? There are "Dummies" books for nearly anything you might want to do/learn/accomplish (within reason, of course). We've worked so hard to equip ourselves to be healthy, functional human beings, but I'm afraid that in doing so, we've lost sight of the reality that the Wholeness we're seeking is found in the only One who is truly whole!

You Know... When

* You know a family Wii tournament has gone on too long when you have to pass around the Ben-Gay.

* You know it's been too long since you cleaned out your fridge when it seems more like cleaning up after science class experiments gone wrong.

* You know it's truly a girl movie when there's a joke about laughing so hard it makes you pee.

Virginia City, Baby!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay, so I'm a dork. I love Bonanza... yes, the corny western that ran a bazillion years ago and is today remembered mostly by dudes old enough to be my grandfather. This weird obsession started several years ago, and I've come to terms with it.

This is the Bonanza title screen... thanks, wiki!


SO... last weekend when we were in the Reno area for a friend's wedding, we took advantage of the opportunity to go visit Viriginia City... the town nearest the fictional Ponderosa Ranch, home of the fictional Cartwrights in Bonanza. Okay, well, to be truthful, I took advantage of the opportunity and my highly-entertained hubby humored me.

All of this to say, here are pictures of our visit to Virginia City!

I didn't know this...

It was super-cold for this little Californian (it was in the upper 40s)...

but I was in Virginia City!!!

Kitschy, but I appreciate the sentiment. :)

Eating a carmel apple at Red's - this was highly recommended by my friend the bride, and rightly so.

The Ponderosa Saloon - more homage to Bonanza.

This was the old schoolhouse - has been updated and now serves as a museum. Obviously, this was through the car windows.

St. Paul's (Episcopal, I think)

The Chapin House has an interesting history... built in 1862, was untouched by the big-gigocious 1875 fire, thus allowing it to be used for triage for victims of said fire. It went on to serve as a boarding house... and now it can be yours! (BTW, the cars in the pic are *shockingly* not part of the real estate offer :) ...they're parked on the street right in front of the house.)

I'm not sure which building this was, but I was struck by the juxtaposition of the new bottles in the street-level (top) window and the old bottles in the bottom window...

And so concludes this edition of my travel updates. :)

Happy Birthday, Dad!

Would someone please tell me:

1. WHERE ALL THIS GRAY HAIR IS COMING FROM?!?!?!?!?!?
*sigh*

2. Whether I'm the only one who thinks the current Quizno's commercials (with the talking oven) are just wrong? Torpedo sandwiches... now, I'm no advertising genius, but I'm pretty sure that what they're getting at .... um, is NOT torpedoes.
Puh-lease.

3. Why people in Ventura have so much trouble reading speed-limit signs? (I promise you, it really is okay if you go 55 when that's the posted limit!!!)

4. For that matter, why do people in Ventura have so much trouble driving in parking lots? I'm pretty sure the standard driving rules still apply. Well, except for the Poinsettia Plaza parking lot - I am firmly convinced that whoever designed that was an evil genius.

DC wrap-up

I know this is late in coming... but coming home from DC, life was off and running again.

First of all, two more restaurants to add to my DC culinary reviews: Harry's Pub (which was actually in our hotel), where they make a fabulous black-and-tan, and Cafe Paradiso, where they make the best Italian food in the whole world. Ever. Seriously.

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Cherry Blossoms! (We missed most of them, but these few hung around for us.)

The Smithsonian Castle

The garden behind the Castle (I know it has an official name, but I've lost it).

Tulips - this particular group is between the Smithsonian Castle and the Arts & Industries Building (the A & I is the building in the background).

This portrait of Stephen Colbert is in the Museum of American History

... displayed on the wall directly across from the bathrooms!

Monuments & Memorials

Today was quite enjoyable! We met up with Mike (a friend of mine from APU) for lunch. After lunch, Mike helped us navigate the Metro, and then took us on a tour of the monuments and memorials. Mike's tour included some little-known facts about DC monuments, including but not limited to, the monument to Ike Lincoln (Abe's lesser-known brother who was a hairdresser), and Fred The Ghost, who can be found regularly at the Jefferson Memorial. :)


Here are just a few pix from the day:

The White House

The Washington Monument, seen from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.

The Reflecting Pool, looking toward the Lincoln Memorial.

(This was one of my favorite pictures from today.)

This quote, part of the FDR Memorial, struck me as exceptionally profound.

In case it's hard to read in the picture, here it is:

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 too little.

Last night's dinner ... Palm Restaurant, a rather well-known DC landmark.

Dinner was hosted by a Group that specializes in buying and selling hospice organizations... at least, that's how they market themselves. If I had to guess based on my own observations last night, I would say that this particular Group specializes in old guys hitting on young women.

Scratch that. This particular Group specializes in CREEPY OLD GUYS WHO SHOULD KNOW BETTER hitting on young women. *Shudder*

I was one of the targets... until the tall, busty, Texas girls got there. With my eyes at eye level, I was apparently no competition. Fine with me... I do enjoy my personal space, and NONE of the creepy old dudes were respectful of anyone's personal space.

Once dinner started, things did get better. We were at a table with a woman who runs a hospice in Tennessee, as well as her husband and granddaughter. The granddaughter appeared to be just a few years younger than me, but I didn't get the chance to talk to her much as we were seated directly across from each other. Even so, we had a pleasant dinner and everything was going smoothly until one of the creepy old guys came over to talk to the grandfather, as though they were old friends. I thought, "okay, so maybe not ALL of them are creepy..." but just then, I looked up and realized that the old dude was now leaning with his arm on the back of the granddaughter's chair... and she was leaning so far over to get away from him that I was afraid she was going to fall out of her chair!

I caught her eye, and realized that she was as annoyed with this invasion of personal space as I'd been earlier... unfortunately, I couldn't do anything but give her a look of sympathy. Finally, the old dude stood up and started to move on, and she straightened up in her chair, grateful to have her personal space back. Just then, he came back (I don't know if someone said something to him that caught his attention, or if he just thought of a reason to come back), placed his hand on the back of her chair, and LEANED IN AGAIN!!! I choked. Seriously. Just the look of utter exasperation on this girl's face made me laugh, which is not a good idea when you've just taken a drink of coffee (which I had). The good news is that the choking (to be fair, it was very minor, really more of a coughing fit) served to distract everyone and by the time I was breathing normally, the creepy old guy was gone.

Oh, it seems I've just been "summoned" to lunch... I'll write more later.

Happy Friday!

Almost, but not quite...

A correction: the conference is actually the NHPCO's Management and Leadership Conference... not just a generic conference, as I might've implied. :)

Last night was another great dinner (with champagne, instead of the wine...so nice), and a fabulous time of conversation. Really a treat, all the way around.

This morning found us up and at the opening session of the National Hospice and Palliative Care Organization (NHPCO) conference, where Elizabeth Edwards delivered the keynote address. I have to say, regardless of your political leanings, Mrs. Edwards is a very lovely, very gracious woman, and her speech this morning was one of the most heartfelt I've ever heard.

Afterwards, there was a book-signing where Mrs. E was signing copies of her book Saving Graces. Because I was the member of our party who was not heading to a breakout session (or whatever they were calling them), I volunteered to stand in line and get our books signed... this meant, then, that I got to meet Elizabeth Edwards!!! I have to say, for as lovely and gracious as she seemed when delivering her address, she is even more so in person.

The other interesting thing this morning... although certainly not on the same level as meeting EE... was that as we crossed the street, we heard the sound of police sirens. Being good Californians, we immediately turned and looked, and realized that it was a diplomatic motorcade! This may be silly of me, but it was kind of cool to see in person. Couldn't see who it was, but still impressive.

Well, it's almost time to get ready for dinner... I'll post more tonight or tomorrow.

DC: Day One-and-a-Half

A disclaimer: this may be a little disjointed because I'm still a little jet-lagged. :)

Yesterday was Travel Day! Overall, it was an uneventful trip, although the stop in Chicago - the STOP in Chicago when we were on a NON-stop flight to Baltimore - was a bit of a surprise. There were also a few moments of some rather unpleasant turbulence… the kind that made me tighten my seatbelt so that it was really more appropriate for a small child. (“I don’t care if it cuts me in half, I WANT TO LIVE!!!”) Truth be told, I wasn’t so worried about the turbulence itself as I was the effect it was having on my mother. Prone to motion sickness, I’m pretty sure her face turned a couple of different shades of green. The problem we were facing was that if she became sick enough to toss her proverbial cookies, I as a sympathy barfer would be compelled to join in the fun. You can see why that would be a bad thing. Happily, she survived, and neither of us lost our lunch (or the airplane peanuts that substituted for afore-mentioned lunch).

Fast-forward to the Baltimore airport, where we met up with our luggage and found ourselves piled in to a minivan-taxi with a very old man driving. He reminded me of my grandpa, except the the minivan didn't have enough bumper stickers. The only thing of note during the drive from Baltimore to DC (other than the scenery) was that I’m pretty sure we passed one of the cars from Super Troopers. They'd pulled somebody over on the other side of the highway, and since we were going in the opposite direction, we passed them so quickly that I didn’t have the opportunity to listen for any meows. I didn't point them out to anyone else in the minivan because I kind of think that no one else would have understood the reference. Meow.

We arrived at the hotel in the midst of a thunderstorm, which changed our dinner plans… originally, we were going to take a walk from our lovely hotel through the lovely neighborhood to a local Italian restaurant. Jill had been there before, and by the time she finished telling us about the owner who makes the pasta fresh everyday, our mouths were watering! BUT... when we got out of the minivan-taxi at the hotel, it was thunderstorming (windy, rainy, thundery), so we very quickly decided to NOT walk around in the midst of the storm. Plan B was eating at one of the restaurants in the hotel... and as Plan Bs go, this was an EXTREMELY satisfactory replacement! I had the best crabcakes I've ever had... and the glass of wine was quite nice, too. The end of the meowmeal found me in a warm, happy food coma.

That was pretty much the end of yesterday, although I suppose I should mention that there was an incident with a vending meowmachine that only takes credit cards, and the subsequent birth of the Vending Machine Success Dance. Yes, that was me... no, you can't see it - it was spontaneous and impossible to replicate. I can tell you that Mom's version of the VMSD was more of a Cabbage Patch, and therefore QUITE hilarious!

Today has been quiet... well, for me, at least. :)

Mom and Jill started meetings first thing this morning... I, on the other hand, happily took advantage of the opportunity to sleep in (mmmmmeow). I did leave the room for a while so that the very patient housekeeping staff could do their thing... but came back so that I could check emails, etc...

That's all for now, but here are a couple of pix of the view from our room (forgive any water-spots - it rained earlier today):

Not too bad, right? Here's one more... forgive all the roofs, but note the church spires in the background!

I'll post again soon... hope you're having as much fun as we are! Meow.

Sleepy...so sleepy....

Seriously, I want to take a nap! :) When did I start going to bed early? Or getting up early and making coffee first thing? I don't know whether to blame it on getting older... or to be grateful that I can still be in charge of my getting-up- and going-to-bed- times... because as I hear from my friends who already have kids, that won't always be the case!

It's not just the early bedtimes, or the coffee drinking,though. It's also the knees popping when I stand up to walk across the room, the gray hairs that are multiplying at an alarming rate, the realization that the teenage hostess at the restaurant probably regards The Princess Bride as an old movie!

I don't know, maybe I'll feel better after I take a nap.

At least I don't need prune juice yet.

It's Getting Thick!

Every place I've lived has had its own regional idiosyncrasies. Growing up in the country, I was used to the sounds of coyotes and bullfrogs at night, of sheep and cattle hailing mealtimes... in northeast Pasadena, it was the wild peacocks who roamed our neighborhoods... now in Ventura, it's the all-pervasive smell of fertilizer. Mind you, I don't mean chemical additives... I mean straight-out-of-the-business-end-of-large-farm-animals fertilizer! Yes, it's that time of year, when they're fertilizing the fields in hopes of yielding a crop of the strawberries that are known and loved throughout Southern California.

One of my favorite roads takes me through an agricultural area with lush green fields on both sides... on a side note, it's not usually on my way, but it is my reigning favorite detour! Despite the fact that I enjoy driving this road, I rarely stop to ask how it gets so green. This time of year, I am reminded. All of the fields have been fertilized... and you can smell it for miles around! I walk out of the grocery store, the mall, the convenience store... no matter where I am, I can smell it.

It kind of stinks - pardon the pun - because we're having BEAUTIFUL weather right now, the kind of weather that makes you want to roll down your windows and enjoy the warm air and sunshine. Here's how that went today:
ME: (getting in my car, turning onto the street, leaving my window up while I drive past the beach tourists so that they don't overhear if i complain about them) What a beautiful day! I think I'm going to crack my window!
(rolling down the window, inhaling deeply) Aw, crap! It's that time of year!!!

And that was the end of that. Okay, so I actually left the window cracked... the day was prettier than the stink was bad. Plus, it felt like a timely, poignant... or timely, pungent... reminder from the Lord that sometimes you have to live through the stinky parts of life to get to the lush green fields. What's important to keep in mind is that the fields are that much lusher, greener, and sweeter for having survived the crap.

Going home...

Thomas Wolfe said "You can't go home again."
He was right... to a point. I can't go back, that's true. Yet it seems that again and again I find my way back to those relationships that have, at one point or another, defined home for me. My parents... because I'll never get too old for their insight and advice. The roommate who shared not only a roof, but life and all of its joys and struggles for 4+ years. The friend who lived far away (or so I thought at the time), then just a few minutes away, and is now far away again... but still capable of bringing incredible normalcy into my day just by sending a text about driving in snow. My little brother, who will always be my little brother no matter how big, buff, or old he is.
The Savior whose arms are always waiting for me...
So maybe I can't go back to a place, or a time, but how wonderfully precious that I can always go the ones who know me best!