Forget the nine's, nine point five's, ten's.
This year goes to eleven.
That's one higher.
Kicking off the great year of one higher I make my re-debut into the blogosphere. Because my momma to'le me so. Because I miss my sissies and bro and their families and want them to know how my kid is growing, too. Because some days I just have too damn much on my mind and I need to vomit my thoughts into cyberspace. Because some days I am filled to the brim with mirth and I need a platform from which to fling myself off of because I can fly. Yes, I can fly. Because days are full and here they can be glanced at.
Because I actually like to write. Via my right foot, which is in and shaking all about. I make now my first eleven post. Take a sit and browse our now. Brought to you by a Johnson, a Wardell and a von Rohr. Say that three times fast.
This is where we live. Wine country. Lush, beautiful, quiet, delightful little Buttonville, aka Healdsburg. The sun shines all the time and the neighbors know your business. We love it.
This is we. Kevin, Orion and Sarah. We are happy. We are fun. We are new to this we and we are loving it. Asked often: 'how long have you two been together?" Our reply: "thirteen years." I know, it's confusing; one day I will tell you the story of The Meeting On the Mountain. Where the 'it' in 'we' began.
This is the bestest Christmas present ever. Admittedly, I have a hard time driving it. I have flashbacks of the '68 Impala, with my sister Anna behind the wheel. But just like that turquoise beast of a mobile from my childhood, this vintage beauty is smoothe, cushy, fun and packs a punch. This pic is taken right before a huge hailstorm hit us in the head without warning.
We were daylight pixie-ing.
We totally got caught by everyone.
I do not suggest trying this unless you want to start a pixie war.
Which is also fun.
This is little man. He is Osom. He is funny and smart and kind and sporty. He loves to read and play Wii and is a very responsible almost-ten-year-old. He played Babe the Ox in his first musical this year and nailed his solo. He is too tall and likes vegetables and is not my little boy any more. He wants to try out for football (Ami, not Euro) this summer and has the makings of a most excellent wide receiver (thank you, miss Debbie). After a move away from his bestest friends, and a rough beginning, he is making friends, at last. He proclaimed the other day that "this place is actually not bad." Phew.
This is Kevin. He plays the tie. And the drums. And the steering wheel. And the Wii. And football. And golf. And frisbee. And records. He is Osom, too. He is the smile giver, the laugh-out-louder, the shenaniganizer, the foodie, the dreamer and the left foot in. He likes my cooking and I like his wine. He likes me and I like him. We is fun and fun is good.
This is me. Lost in thought. This paintbrush and this bike are all I need. Oh, and this remote control. And this lamp. And this Wardell. And that Orion. And the bottle of rosé... This pic sums up my move here. Still thinking about what it is I am, and how in the heck I am going to steady it. Need more art days. Need more raw food. Need sports. Need to run my own business again. What a needy Nellie I turned out to be ;)
But this year goes to eleven, so all these things are a piece of cake.
AND, it is the year of the rabbit. Which means I am already ahead.
Thanks for dropping in and checking out our now. I promise I will write. I miss you, sissies, and bro, and ma and marlowe and pops and girlie friends, and dude friends and colleagues. Life is sweet and simple, and only getting better. So I s'pose I will just have to keep on missing you with intermittent bouts of visiting. Did I mention we have (hint hint) a guest bedroom?