I Just Cant Seem to Drink You Off My Mind

I had a couple bad days this week. I know it sounds cliche, but the emotion seemed to materialize out of nothing. My grief caught me off guard and left me wondering when I can expect some peace about Dad being gone.

Friday was pretty hard. It felt flat from the very beginning. The day never gained any momentum. Work was fine and my students were great, but for some reason the day didnt seem to roll like most do. I didnt recognize it at the time but I felt numb, just going through the motions. Around 3:00pm I often get tired and Ive found that if I get an iced tea at Wendy's (which is right next door to the school) it will push me through after school volleyball practice and on until dinnertime. I was standing in Wendy's looking at the menu when I noticed the caramel shake I used to buy my dad after his chemo and hydration treatments. Out of nowhere it hit me like a monster wave - hot, heavy tears. I couldnt stop crying so I hustled back to my office, closed the door and broke down. My friend Erin walked in on me and when she asked what was wrong all I could muster was "I miss my dad." Erin lost her mom when she was 20 years old and she responded,"Yeah. That never goes away. I miss my mom too."

I had a big talk with Matt about what happened. Friday marked two weeks since Dad's death and Matt thinks its all still very new. I think he's right. Im realizing that Im going to spend the rest of my life missing Dad, but Im hoping that someday in the future it wont hurt so much to think of him.

PS. In regards to the title (lyrics from a Rolling Stones song) I did try to drink my dad off my mind last night. Saturday was my other bad day this week. It didnt work, but I was left with a killer hangover today. Not a good feeling. Im not going to try to drink Dad away ever again. If Im going to rid my heart of his ghost, its going to be through talking... not drinking.

Slowpoke

My dad passed away on Friday, September 2nd, 2011.
My sisters, mom and I were with him.
He slipped away from us peacefully and without pain.


I feel numb. I feel pain. I feel hurt. I feel lost.
I feel anger. I feel heavy. I feel alone. I feel dazed.

I want to rip out my hair.
I want to run until I collapse.
I want to check out and disappear.
I want to destroy something and break it down to nothing.

Its been three days and the void in my life feels massive and raw and unrepairable.
It feels like other things that were solid are starting to slip away into its abyss.

I want this to have never, ever happened.
This plan is unfair and cruel.
I want my dad back and there is nothing in this world that can make it so.

Oscar Meyer or Ball Park Franks

Last night my dad woke up in his chair, looked me straight in the eye, and in the clearest voice said "HOT DOG!" For the past few weeks, his speech has become very labored and difficult to understand, but last night he appeared very coherent - his voice strong. Jennifer has been caring for him around the clock and she came over to the chair where we were. He was looking straight at me and said it again "HOT DOG." Everything in me was ready to comply with his request. My mind began working on where I could pick a hot dog up fast rather than making one from scratch. I knew we had no hot dogs in the house. As I began to reply "Ok, Dad... I'll go get one at Costco" my sister interceded and said "No Dad. Its late. Lets have some ice cream instead." She was right. It was past 8:30 and my mom was already asleep in bed.

For a second though, I let myself believe that he was fine and that there wasnt any sickness in his body. For one second, I let myself hope. His voiced seemed so unburdened and confident and reasonable. His eyes were not tired and confused. He really seemed like my dad again.

Jennifer went into the kitchen and Dad's eyes looked straight ahead at the tv- resuming that cloudy stare. Then he barked in my direction "TOMORROW."

Goal for today: bring Dad a hotdog from Costco... maybe two.

Hard Times

Dad had a rough day yesterday.
He was taken to the emergency room late, last night and was finally admitted at around 5am this morning.
Mom and Jennifer had a long night at Tri-City. They are home resting now.
Dad is ok. He is being hydrated and has been given medicine to help him rest.
We are calling hospice today.

Another Story from Puerto Vallarta - but Not a Nice One

This story is one Ive thought of countless times in my life. Im not sure why, cause it ain't pretty. For some reason, it is lodged in my mind.

When we were five, my family would roam the cobblestone streets of Puerto Vallarta exploring the coastal town. We'd window shop, investigate the smells and sights of the large, covered markets and hang out in the plaza by the crown topped church. One evening we were all out walking and my parents decided we'd buy some bread at a panaderia. Pandulce and coffee is a common dinner meal for many Mexicans and when we were in Mexico we would often practice their custom. After a long day walking, my sisters, parents and I found ourselves in a populated panaderia and began choosing our dinner treats.

At panaderias, there are racks and racks full of fresh bread and pandulce. On this night, my parents allowed my sisters and me to serve ourselves using the oversized tongs and circular, metal trays. Normally this would be awesome, but on this day it posed a problem for me. Even though I had eaten pandulce plenty of times, I was not overly familiar with the different types, styles and flavors presented in the store. In the past, someone else chose the sweet bread for me and I either ate it or didnt. There were definitely types I didnt like and I wasnt really sure which ones they were. My sisters didnt seem plagued with the same insecurity I felt. Ultimately, I followed their suit and chose one or two I thought looked good.

Once outside the store we began to snack on our pandulce, but when I bit into mine I didnt like it. Just as I feared I chose poorly. For some reason I was very ashamed of myself and didnt want to tell anyone. I reached my hand back into the bag, picked out what looked like a normal piece of bread and began eating it. Boy was it good! The bread wasnt fancy looking so I must have thought it wouldnt be missed. I was wrong again. The bolillo I feasted on was Dad's and he was mighty pissed that I had biten into it. He began yelling at me outside of the store and my dad rarely lost his cool. It takes a lot for him to lose his temper and/or patience and on this day he did both. His irritation caught me off guard and Im ashamed to admit that I began yelling back at him. I think I was either in 8th, 9th or 10th grade. My parents can both attest those were not my best years.

Twenty some years later, the facts if this incident, which made a big impression on me at the time, have altered. When this incident happened, I took my Dad's anger very personally. I felt very attacked and ashamed that I had pushed him to his breaking point, but that awareness didnt stop my bad behavior. For some reason I didnt admit the blame and just say "Im sorry." Now when I think back at that night, I believe there was a lot more "psychology" going on than what appeared on the surface. As I said earlier, my dad has the patience of Job. It was out of character for him to lose it on me about something so small. Actually, that is not true. Dad's temper rarely flared up at people. Instead it was directed at smaller things - things my mom, sisters and I deemed insignificant. The big stuff he took in stride. The reason this memory is stuck in my head is because I believe it was one of the first times his fury was solely focused on me. I made him angry. He wasnt upset at the dog or the sprinklers not working or the baseball game on the tv. His anger was focused on me and I did not like it. There might have been other extenuating circumstances too. Maybe he was tired that day or the heat and humidity had gotten to him. Maybe he was hungry and had plans for that bolillo once we got home. Maybe there was extenuating tension with my mom or me or my sisters that I was unaware of. Its possible I had been doing things to annoy him the entire night and me eating half of the bolillo sent him off the edge.

Or maybe, I was a selfish, spoiled 14 year old who hadnt learned to be responsible for her own actions. I think maybe that was it. :)

There's Always Sunshine after Rain.

Dinner in Puerto Vallarta, 200?

When I was in middle school my parents bought a time share in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. We have been making weeklong, summer visits ever since. I have so many wonderful memories of PV: meals together; ChiChis; the Gigante supermarket; horseback riding in the jungle; banana boat out on the ocean; drinks by the pool; shopping in town and venders on the beach. My head is flooded with so many memories that I cant decipher the years anymore. There are memories when my family as only five and now I have memories that include Matt, my sons, Barry, Elijah, Abbey Road and Dama Shan.

Dad loved PV... he really, really did. At first I believe my parents began going there because of Mom, but my Dad loved it there just as much, maybe more. It makes me sad that he wont be able to experience the warmth and smells of Puerto Vallarta one more time in his life. It makes me sadder that the next time I go there, Dad wont be with us.

My father would totally chill out and do nothing in Puerto but relax for days. He would take naps in the afternoon and rarely watch tv. I can see my dad now like it was yesterday: he's sitting on the balcony of the room in his bathing suit - something with a tropical print and mildly worn. Dad always sat out on the balcony; he didnt like the air conditioner inside. There's an orange or royal blue towel under him on the chair and in his hands is a James Patterson book. Next to him on the table is a drink. Dad never bought drinks from the hotel. Instead he'd head over to Gigante across the road and buy grapefruit or pineapple juice and tequila. He loved that combo.

I remember one time in Mexico, we were both out on the balcony sitting together during a rain shower. Dad had his music with him (he often brought his own music to Mexico in the form of several cassette tapes) and we were discussing how the ambient, guitar laden songs of Dire Straits were a beautiful soundtrack to the rain and electrical storm we were experiencing. We sat out there as the day turned to night, quietly enjoying the music and the rain together. I felt so content in that moment.

I Think We're Alone Now...

Finn at Mom and Dad's pool - 8.18.11

Yesterday I randomly saw my cousin, Mike, surfing at the beach in Carlsbad. Both Mike and his brother, Jeff, were taught to surf at a young age by my Uncle Tom. Now its part of their lives. They surf whenever they can - often, daily. I envy that. I envy having an activity that's good for me, communes with nature and allows me some solo time. After I picked up Dad from his treatment this morning, I told him how Id seen Mike and shared how seeing him made me wish Id asked him earlier in the summer to teach Seamus and Finn to surf. Dad remarked "Its a little late for that now." He's right in one respect: its literally the last days of summer for us. My boys will be up to their ears in school in just a few days.

I couldnt shake the feeling of wanting alone, meditative time - preferably doing something that is good for the body. If I crave that kind of outlet, surely my sons would too, right? Surely, they would benefit from that kind of activity later in life. At the pool this afternoon, watching how much the boys love being in the water, my thoughts drifted back to surfing again. I told the boys how I wish I had asked Mike to teach them to surf and Seamus replied:

"Ive never really wanted to learn to surf."

I ignored him and continued on:

"Yeah... but there's something really peaceful and centering about being alone, out in the vast ocean with the waves rocking you gently."

Seamus started at me blankly, clearly confused by my persistence. Then Finn piped in with dead pan response:

"You lost me at alone."

Oh my God, did he give me a good laugh when he said that. I laughed out loud and generously for about 15 seconds.

Finn hates being alone.

Photographs and Memories

Photo of Dad and Mom in San Francisco Bay.

One of the things Ive been grappling with lately is that I have taken very few pictures this year. Since the kids have been born, I have been obsessed with photographing my family. What happened this year? I think there are a few reasons. One, Ive kind of fallen out of love with my camera. My camera is not new. I dont know how old it is, but its an older digital camera model. The most obvious mechanical problem I see with it is that the photos arent as crisp as they used to be. I used to take pictures using auto program (just push the shutter and the camera does everything) and the photos were sooooo clear and sharp. That rarely happens now, even with my best lens. Ive also noticed that when Im taking pictures, it wont snap as quickly as it used to. I wouldnt say that there is a delay, but if Im taking lots of pictures in one setting, the camera will stammer and stop enough for me to be totally annoyed. These mechanical issues (and a few others I havent mentioned) have prompted me to slow down dramatically in taking pictures - even during holiday and family events. I am normally a fairly patient person (a trait I inherited from my dad), but the camera drama has become a serious pet peeve of mine. I dont like feeling and acting like a stubborn old man, so Ive avoided using my camera whenever I can.

Another reason I havent taken many pictures in the past couple years is that I miss being a part of the action. When you are the photographer in your family, you often find yourself on the outside looking in. I have always felt this way, but in the past when the kids were younger it didnt bother me as much. There have been countless trips to Joshua Tree or Palomar Mountain where Matt inferred to me that I leave the camera at home and instead just enjoy our time together. For the record, taking pictures never precluded me from enjoying our time together. It did, however, frequently interrupt the flow of whatever activity we were doing. I guess after 10+ years of being the family documentarian I wanted to be more present in the moment.

Lately, I have been struggling with all these excuses. With my dad so sick, I have felt so haunted by all the photos I COULD HAVE taken, but didnt. This past Easter and July 4th I took a total of 35 pictures. That number includes photos of both holidays. What was I thinking? Where was my head? Why didnt I take photos of all of us together? For that matter, why didnt I snag more pictures of him alone? Why didnt I make that time?

A couple nights ago I was explaining this inner conflict to Matt through agonizing tears. Its funny the stuff that can get me crying these days - enough for its on blog post Im sure! Matt told me that even if I havent taken many pictures this year (or last, or the year before last) I still had dozens of pictures of my dad. That fact calmed me for a moment, because Matt is right. Life has not passed me by unnoticed, even if the past few months feel that way. I have a good 10 years of pictures that document pretty much everyday of my life. My dad is in many of them and for that Im grateful. I have a feeling that those images are going to be of great comfort in the coming weeks, months and years.

On My Mind...

This weekend, I got to spend some much needed time with some old friends. I have been very lucky that way. I have life long friends: people who have seen me grow and still love the person I am. One cool thing about having lifelong friends is that time is not an obstacle - in some ways, its an ally. We can go months (years?) without talking, but when we see each other again its like no time has passed. We fall right back into our familiar groove, but without any discomfort or guilt that time can often create.

I have woefully neglected this blog and instead of apologizing about it and Im going to treat it like an old friend. My life and that of my family has changed profoundly this past year and I think this blog might help me deal with the adjustment. I have really needed a place to put out all the emotions and feelings that seem to daily overwhelm me. Im hoping this blog will be that place.

For now, I leave you a picture of my dad on the Fourth of July. He is constantly on my mind.

Just Cause...

Saw this guy's photography recently and fell in love with this image.
More images here: Jim Franco Photography

More soon.

Guess Where We Went Today?

Matt and the boys had the day off for President's Day so we decided to head up to one of our favorite family places: Palomar Mountain. Its been raining off and on for the past few days and with the higher altitude and colder temperatures, Palomar Mountain was white with snow. We dusted off some cold weather gear, grabbed the sleds and headed up to the mountains. Here are a few snapshots of our day.

Seamus enjoyed throwing snowballs at everyone - including me. As I was taking pictures, he hit me dead on two times! In the following series of photographs, Matt defended me with a barrage of flying snowballs. Seamus loved it. When I showed him these pictures tonight, he insisted he was trying to catch the snowballs. HA! He didnt have a chance at catching those snowballs. They were coming too fast!

While we drove up the mountain, Finn remarked several times how the snow reminded him of his cousin, Eli. Finn recently traveled to Wisconsin to visit Eli and the rest of the Pawelek crew. While there, my sister Jennifer bought him the coat pictured in these pictures. She intended to keep the jacket in Wisconsin for her own son's future use, but Finn became very attached to it and convinced her to let him take it home. When Matt brought the jacket out this morning, Finn lit up. He loves that jacket! Matt and I think he looks like Han Solo in Empire Strikes Back.

Matt grew up in Western Pennsylvania so he knows plenty about snow fun. Over the years, he's shared with the boys how to make a proper snowman and how to dig a snow fort. He knows what sleds are good and he can tell which type of snow is best for certain activities. Most importantly, Matt can annihilate an opponent in a snowball fight. He's pretty darn accurate and in the following pictures he was killing the boys with snowballs. They were loving every minute of it.

About three years ago, we bought sleds for the boys. Now some of you might think that buying sleds was a total waste of money. After all, we live in San Diego County where its often warm and/or sunny. What many people dont understand about Southern California is that it offers its residents the best of both worlds. Our family lives 10 minutes from the beach, but we also live 1.5 hours from the mountains. In the wintertime, we can experience snow (even ski and snowboard,) but at the end of the day we can return home where the weather is temperate. The sleds we bought the kids a few years ago come out every single winter. So far, they havent outgrown the thrill of sledding. I hope they never do.


Ok... tomorrow its back to the grind. I gotta make lunches and get the kids ready for school.

Happy Monday.

Answered Prayers

Tonight I discovered pinterest.com - a place where you can compile and catalog all the neat things you find on the internet. The catagorization comes in the form of "boards." Once you find something you like, you can "pin" it to your board. Pretty cool, eh? One of my boards at pinterest is called Latin Love. I love Mexican style and culture and now I have a place to save all the images that remind me of Mexico.

While I was finding images to "pin" I decided to Google "Arandas, Jalisco, Mexico." For six months back in 1994, I lived in Arandas - a tiny "pueblito" in the high plains of Jalisco. I was 23 years old but I felt aimless and confused. I had recently graduated from UCSB with a BA in pre-law, but I honestly didnt have a clue what I wanted in life. I knew I didnt want to stick around and live with my parents forever, so I quit my job, sold my car and used the money to live in Mexico. It was one of the scariest things Ive ever done but it was also one of the happiest times in my whole life.

Arandas is located deep in the heart of Mexico. I didnt pick that location arbitrarily. My good friend Lorena had family in Arandas and they agreed to let me stay with them, free of rent, as long as I helped out around their facility. Lorena's aunt was a nun and the facility she ran was a convalescent home for sick and often indigent seniors. For six months I lived with four nuns and helped care for the elderly of that community.

The first couple months were really hard. I cried a lot and missed my family and friends terribly. There were definitely difficulties living in Arandas. I couldnt speak Spanish when I arrived and the nuns didnt speak English. Communication was very frustrating at first. The nuns didnt have a washing machine on the premises. I had to wash my clothes by hand on a rock basin outside. I was lucky to have a shower adjacent to my room, but the water wasnt always warm and it came out like it was flowing from a hose. There were no movie theaters or shopping malls in Arandas. We didnt have a car and instead walked everywhere for the items we needed. It was a very rural area tucked away from the rest of the world - total culture shock.

For the most part, I adopted the routines of the nuns. I changed bed linens when the elderly soiled themselves. I served meals to the seniors who were bedridden. I swept and mopped the front porch every day. I helped do the laundry and washed the dishes after every meal. In addition to the work, there were also religious implications. For six months I went to church every single morning and prayed the rosary twice a day. It was a total lifestyle change. There were definitely periods of loneliness and I was terrified of what I was doing, but during that period of my life I experienced profound growth and clarity. I learned so much about myself and was extremely happy the latter part of my stay. When I returned home, I knew exactly what I wanted in life. I had developed confidence I never knew I had.

Living the life of a nun (even if you arent one) allows a lot of time to pray. Although I was raised Catholic, the level of spiritual devotion displayed by the nuns was new for me. The church pictured above was the place I attended mass daily. Everyday I said the same prayer during the service: "Please, Lord. If it is your will, let me be worthy to meet a good man to love and raise a family with." I prayed this invocation EVERY SINGLE DAY - the same appeal for six months. Nine months after I returned home, I met my husband Matt. It was a totally random introduction and I truly believe that fateful timing was key in us finding each other. One night during those first few days of dating, Matt asked me on the phone if I knew the origin and meaning of my name. I told him I didnt and that it was just a name my mother liked. He shared, among other things, that his name was Hebrew for "gift from God." I was genuinely stunned upon hearing these words. In that moment I knew with everything in me that God meant Matt for me. It was as if he was saying "Lisa, this gift - the one you prayed for - is for you."

Tonight, when I saw that picture above, tears came to my eyes. I havent seen that church in many years, but there is no doubt that God heard me in that holy place.

Happy Saturday.

For Matt

I know you're going to read before I actually get in touch with you. I wanted to tell you Im sorry. Im not perfect, babe. It never feels good to hurt you and I shouldnt have allowed myself to get carried away like I did. I was just frustrated and hurt and it was easier to blame you than deal with the disappointment myself.

On the way to school this morning, this song came on in the car and the boys were singing the chorus so loudly. It felt good to sing it with them, but all along I was thinking of you.
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Nub you.

Happy Valentines Day!

*picture taken on the morning of 2/14/11

I forgot it was Valentines Day today. I woke up really early - unable to sleep. My brain was buzzing. Among the many things on my mind was the fact that I had to run down to the grocery store and get a couple essentials for the boys' lunches. I meant to do it yesterday but got too tired towards the end of the day. Ugggghhhh! As I ran into the store at 6am this morning, I was confronted with dozens of red and pink balloons, flower bouquets and a boatload of candy. It was at that moment I remembered what day it was.

My mother was always great at Valentines Day. Pretty much every year she would give me and my sister a card and/or a small gift. I remember one year she gave me a little red safety pin with a red heart dangling off it. Another year she got us cards full of shiny heart confetti. Her gifts were never grand. She never got me a dozen roses or a piece of jewerly. But for a girl like me - a girl who never had a valentine growing up - her thoughtfulness made me feel very special.

And then there is me. Not only did I forget to do something special for my boys on Valentines Day, I actually forgot it was Valentines Day!

Clearly, this would not do. I had to do something and fast. While at the grocery store, I bought two of the largest mylar balloons I have ever seen. Both were shaped like hearts and each said "I love you." Then I ran next door to the donut shop and bought two pink sprinkle donuts - one for Seamus and one for Finn. I snuck into their rooms (thank goodness they were still sleeping) and put the balloons right by their beds. They would, no doubt, be the first thing each boy would see upon waking up. Then, I set out their donuts with a cup of milk and waited.

Finn was the first one up. He came walking out into the hallway with the balloon flying beside him. He was beaming. When Seamus got up, he too was holding his balloon. He got down from his bed and literally jumped into my arms. There were lots of kisses and hugs this morning from both my boys. And lots of "I love yous" too.

It was the best start to the day that I can remember.

Happy Valentines Day everyone. And lots of love to our family in Wisconsin, Texas, Pennsylvania, Florida and off the coast of Baja California. We love you!

Am I My Brother's Keeper?

photo taken in January 2011 at Cabrillo National Park in San Diego.

Finn has been sick for the past two days. He caught a bug on Tuesday night and spent the past two days re-cooping at home. Today the kids get report cards at school and Finn was anxious to view his grades. He seemed much better than Wednesday so I reluctantly let him go to school. When Seamus found out this morning that Finn would be attending, he said:

"Thank God. Im so sick of people coming up to me asking 'Where's Finn? Where's Finn?' Its annoying."

Nothing like brotherly love on a Friday, eh?

Happy Friday.

Me Gusta! -Dazzling Lanna's Etsy Shop

Crikey! I saw these purses today and absolutely fell in love. They are so expensive, but I imagine they are worth every penny. I am seriously DUH-AY-ING right now over these beautiful creations. The custom purses and bags are sooooo freaking gorgeous! Unfortunatley for me I will have to save for months to buy one. Do you love them? I swear, I am so smitten with them it hurts.

Here is the creator's etsy shop: Dazzling Lanna
And here is my favorite:

Here is the link for MY bag (ahem, if someone romantic (hint hint) wanted to get me a little somthin, somethin for Valentines day.): The most awesome purse in the world.

January Almost Killed Me

I apologize so much for being absent the entire month of January. It was a tough month for many reasons:

-For the first time in 11 years I am working regular part time hours, Monday thru Friday. Although its only about 14 hours a week, its been an adjustment having to manage my time and find a new routine that works for me and my family.

-My mother in law, Barb was staying with us in January. Because I was working, I didnt have the same amount of time to visit with her as I normally do. The time I could have spent blogging, I spent talking with her or catching a quick nap. Her being here the entire month was such a blessing for all of us. We all love when she comes out to visit and this time was no exception. Her help while I transitioned back into working was a complete Godsend. While I was out, Barb would empty the dishwasher or pick up needed items at the store. She watched the boys while I ran errands and took Finn to the dentist. Everyday when I walked back home from work, she was waiting at our house with laundry piled neatly on the dining room table. Isnt my mother in law the best? The first Monday after Barb left, I felt genuine loss that she wasnt with us anymore. We miss her already.

-The biggest reason why I didnt blog this month was Finn's report on Mission San Francisco de Solano (see above.) How do I begin explaining this mission project? In a word it was "massive." Finn's report was a two part project that literally sucked up all of his free time and much of ours during the month of January. The first part of the project was a written report. It included a map, a timeline, a 12 term glossary, various illustrations and a thorough bibliography. The bulk of his report, however, centered around answering 12 questions that ranged from " Name three California landmarks closest to your mission and describe them" to "On a typical day at the mission, what did the friars do?" It was a huge undertaking and once it was completed, Finn's written report totaled 28 pages. Yeah, crazy right? The kid is 10 years old and he wrote and compiled a 28 page report! The most outrageous part about this report, at least in my eyes, was that it was completely handwritten in CURSIVE. Dude! If that aint Catholic school torture I dont know what is. The only thing that was allowed to be typed was the bibliography and the title page. Everything else had to be handwritten with black ink in cursive. Let me tell ya, we had some brutal days and nights. There were many tears shed and many frustrations vented. Everyday after doing his homework Finn and I worked on his written report. It literally took weeks to write. I felt the weight of the world lift off my shoulders when he finished it.

Less than a week later, Finn's mission model was due. I was under the impression that the model was due at least two weeks after turning in the report. It seemed reasonable; that report was an absolute bear and I assumed we'd get at least 10 days to make the model. I was wrong. Apparently we were supposed to be working on both the model and the report simultaneously. Upon realizing my mistake, I panicked. Matt had to be in Virginia the following week. We had less than two days with him home to help. Barb and I were going to have to shoulder the weight of the project with Finn. I was stressed. Thankfully Matt built and painted the basic structure of our mission before he left. All we had to do was create the details: the roof, the landscaping, the doors, windows and other miscellaneous accessories. It took us four days to complete Finn's mission, but once it was done it looked good. The coolest part about it was that we all (Matt, Barb, Seamus, Finn and I) all helped in making it.

I'll try to get back into posting regularly. Our lives certainly havent slowed down. They've just become busier.

Happy Wednesday.

Day One: The Great Mission Adventure!

Every fourth grader in the state of California learns about the California missions. In the 1700s, Catholic friars established missions along the coast of Alta and Baja California in an effort to defend the territory for Spain and also bring Christianity to the Native Americans. In addition to learning about the missions in class, many students build a replica model of one mission and write a report on it at home. Its a very big deal and a rite of passage for many fourth graders. Because there are 21 missions in present day California and in an effort to make it fair for everyone, Finn's class randomly chose their missions at drawing. Finn chose San Francisco de Solano - the last mission built in California and the furthest away from our present location. My mother is a teacher and she decided it would be a great idea to drive the boys up to Northern California to visit Finn's mission. Experiencing Mission San Francisco de Solano first hand would totally benefit Finn in writing and building his mission project. Along the way, my mom anticipated we could stop at San Francisco for a day and maybe check out a couple other missions in the area. I am always up for a road trip so I immediately agreed. On December 26th, my parents, Matt, the boys and I began the Great Mission Adventure.

Our first stop was San Francisco. Thanks to new Christmas gifts, the 8 hour drive up North went smoothly. There was no yelling or arguing between the boys. My dad didnt seem to loose his temper with so many people being in such close quarters. It was actually very pleasant. The kids read their new Christmas books and played on their ipods most of the time. My dad and Matt talked politics and sports. My mom finished up a quilt she was making and I alternated between sleeping and reading.

Even though the road trip was brought about because of Finn's mission assignment, we decided to stop in San Francisco for Seamus. Seamus has long held a fascination with San Francisco. He's read tons of books about the city's history and watched many documentaries about the earthquake in 1906, Alcatraz, the making of the Golden Gate Bridge, etc. We arrived in SF in the late afternoon. We were tired from the trip, but because we were spending less than 24 hours in the city we decided to take an hour long harbor tour immediately upon arrival. What a great decision that was! It was cold and I think a couple of us would have preferred to rest in the hotel, but we all got on that boat and sailed around the bay. It was thrilling to ride under the Golden Gate Bridge and see it so close. Our captain was very knowledgable and shared lots of details about various points of interest in the bay. We caught our boat's last tour of the day and unbeknownst to us, it was a beautiful time to see the sites of the city. We got to see the sun set out in the Pacific and see the city lights come up at twilight. It was magical.



The color in the bay during our tour completely took me by surprise. It was perfect. While I can occasionally take some pretty nice picures, I am not schooled on light and exposure. My inexperience that day didnt matter because the color coming off the water was stunning! There were dark rain clouds to the North, but with the sun setting in the west the Golden Gate Bridge glowed. It was such a vibrant orange color. We all remarked how lucky we were to see it in that beautiful light. The pictures below were taken on our tour. I tweak all the pictures I post here on the blog, but those images below came straight out of the camera as is. That is the real, unedited color of the bridge during that hour of the day. I will never forget how beautiful the bridge looked among the water. It was radiant.


We rounded off our long first day with a fantastic meal at Scoma's in the warf and a trip to Union Square in a cable car. When I asked Finn how he liked the ride, he said "It was very steep and hilly. Thank goodness for the hand rails." ha ha I slept so soundly that night. I think we all did.

Day Two of the Great Mission Adventure soon.

Happy Thursday.

What I Like About You!

It's that time of the year again. This year, my wonderful wife is passing a big milestone (I won't say which one) and I think that has her a little bummed. In her honor, I wanted to list just a few of the things that I like (and love) about Lisa. Happy Birthday!!!

1. Lisa loves her family…always. She loves her friends almost as much! Put these together and you have one of the sweetest, loyal, genuine people I've ever met!
2. She makes the best popcorn in the world (Finn volunteered this one but I agree 100%).
3. Lisa loves to watch movie trailers on iTunes. She does this all the time. Very sweet.
4. She loves music more that pretty much anyone I've ever met. It always makes her happy!
5. She always messes up colloquialisms. I've heard things like "It's just a drop in the pan!" Love this!
6. Lisa has a potty mouth. She's gotten better, but still uses naughty words on a regular basis.
7. She loves Volkswagen Beetles. That was her first car (mine too), and she'd have one again in a hot second. Maybe next year babe!!
8. Lisa is almost never on time. Some might see this as a flaw, but I think it says a lot of good things about her.
9. In the Summer, Lisa almost NEVER wears shoes. Flip flops most of the time…bare feet the rest.
10. Speaking of Summer, she lives for it all year long. Lisa loves the heat and hanging at the pool. A real So Cal girl.
11. She has come to love the things that I do. If she went along with me for the ride, I'd be appreciative. But she genuinely has come to love things like Joshua Tree (my favorite place) and the Steelers. Sometimes I think she's come to love these things more than me…really!
12. Lisa is always cold…except when she's not (see #10).
13. She is extremely talented. She can draw and paint and design and take photos and play the piano (maybe next year honey!). Her handwriting is probably the coolest I've ever seen!
14. Lisa can cook. She told me she couldn't when we met, but she can really make some awesome dishes…especially her Mexican rice.
15. Lisa is proud of her heritage…all of it. She is a SoCal girl to the bone. She is Mexican…don't ever make the mistake of thinking she's not!
16. My lovely wife has the kindest heart in the world.

I could continue with this list for a long time. There are so many things I like (and love) about my wife. She has made my life amazing and wonderful!

Happy Birthday Lisa. I love you!!!