Here’s a llama.

(By the way, just 13 days remaining for you to submit your entry to Regina’s Silly Toothbrush Haiku Contest.)

I’ve wanted to write about a few things over the past couple of weeks.  Some hurdles along the way though… some good, some blech.

• Frenzied preparation at work for a conference occurring this weekend.
• Raging allergies and subsequent sinus headaches.
• A nice weekend out of town with Tim and Sofie. Tim loves to camp, and we hadn’t been since before I was pregnant. For Tim’s xmas gift, I got us a couple nights in a Creekside King cabin at El Capitan Canyon.

  (I know, not really camping… okay, not camping at all.  But we had to hike - uh, I mean drive - in a couple of miles past the entrance to get to the place.  And we were surrounded by trees. And a babbling creek lay a stone’s throw from our front door.  And we didn’t have a stove, only a microwave, left to cook anything in the fire pit outside… although we opted to buy our meals at the cafe on the property.)

  Sofie LOVED it. It was so exciting to see just how excited she was about being there.  And it still boggles my mind that all of that can be evident in a little one year old girl.

  The cabin had a jacuzzi tub… the tub of my dreams.  I know you’re not supposed to put bubbles in a jacuzzi, but I tempted fate and added some lovely, violets-evoking, vintage Lush Bathos bubblebath to my first soak. (Vintage in that it’s a bottle I picked up last time I was in London — way too long ago, and they were not yet located in the U.S. – and they’ve not made Bathos in liquid form for years now. sigh.)  I had to turn the water off after it had only filled about 6-8 inches in the tub.  The bubbles took on characteristics of The Blob, growing and expanding, determined to swallow me whole.  I swear they ranged from 18-24 inches high.  Tim dubbed it my Steven King bathtub.  I LOVES me some bubbles, but I must admit I DID find myself starting to panic at the rapid bubble envelopment development.

  The food in the little cafe on the property was delish, and the kitchen utilized produce grown on the property’s organic farm.  Even better was the smores kit we picked up and took back to our campfire.  (I wonder if the marshmallows were organic, too.)  They also raise llamas, which we could see and, c’mon, who doesn’t love a llama?

  Sofie awoke the last day of our camping trip - this past Sunday - with goobery eyes and nose.  But she was not deterred from enjoying her time there.  Unfortunately, it grew worse over the next day and off she went to her pedi’s office.  Turns out she contracted an eye/nose/ear bacterial infection, for which they prescribed antibiotics.

• Then Tim started feeling ill.
• Then I fell ill.  I’ve been home from work since Wednesday, wishing my head would just explode already and put me out of my misery.  All the while, taking care of Sofie while Tim staggered in to the office for important meetings this week.  And, being sick and all, I’m going to miss out this weekend on the wine-infused activities of that conference with which I’d been assisting.

So, on to what I’ve wanted to share with y’all.

1) RAMI LOVES ME!

Eddie SO rocks for getting this for me (while he watched the Hershey’s episode - which Rami won - with Rami)!  You’re my hero, Eddie!

(As for Sweet Pea almost getting him nixed this past week? Well, I know Rami would be a gentleman about it, but I’m neither gentle nor a man. That whiny, deer-in-the-headlights chick has gotta go!)

2) Scene: Tim, Sofie and I are sitting on the couch, going through our mail.  Sofie had grabbed a newsletter thingie, fascinated with the colorful back cover.

r: “What are you looking at baby?” [takes newsletter thingie away from Sofie before she devours it]

r: “History of Aphrodisiacs? SOFIA!”

t: “What is that?”

r: “The latest mailing from the SB Museum of Natural History.” [begins thumbing through newsletter]

t: “How’d you get on that list?”

r: “You know, we’ve gone to events in the… wait… WAIT A MINUTE.  THAT’S… ME!”

t: “What?”

r: “And THAT’S YOU!”

[Tim grabs from my hands]

 

t: “THAT’S ME! AND YOU!  And why am I wearing that sloppy sweatshirt?”

r: [Thinks to herself, “This is SO not about the sweatshirt right now, although I am pleased and encouraged he recognizes the horror of the mangy thing, albeit a couple of years later.”]

I feel compelled to clarify: the event we attended - the event depicted in the photograph - was NOT an aphrodisiac shindig.  No.  It was a History of Chocolate soiree.  See us?  Happily smack-dab in the middle of the chocolate fountain action? H-I-S-T-O-R-Y of C-H-O-C-O-L-A-T-E.

Nonetheless, Tim and I are now the poster children for the local Aphrodisiacs: Eat Something Sexy event.

tah-dah.

Interestingly, the next day after I received this in the mail, I saw online a news item that John Cleese, who’s hosting the Aphrodisiacs thang, is separating from his third wife.

Guess they should have eaten more chocolate covered strawberries on a stick. (Pun not intended. It just flows naturally from me. I know… it’s a gift.)

p.s.: I heart Rami!

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