tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10934484542194255472024-02-06T19:33:21.806-08:00Peach Out of WaterA Not-So-Delicate Flower Who Tries to Bloom Wherever She is Planted.Peacheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08679200032831333611noreply@blogger.comBlogger231125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093448454219425547.post-4030294140623915722011-05-02T11:56:00.000-07:002011-05-02T12:09:02.049-07:00I Ain't Missing You at All.<div style="text-align: justify;">I'm loving my new digs in Portugual. We're 20 or so miles from Lisbon. Walking distance to the coast. 10 minutes to the beach. We have a pool. We have a sauna. We have a BAR.<br />
(Seriously, a BAR).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">What I don't have yet?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Girls. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Some things are not so easily replaced, but I'm working on it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">[Not replacing mind you, but adding to the roster.]</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Now accepting applications. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Apply here.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">[Truth is, I'm missing you all. Terribly. XOXO]</div>Peacheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08679200032831333611noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093448454219425547.post-91574830798205308872011-03-01T08:51:00.001-08:002011-03-01T08:56:13.193-08:00Two Weeks Notice.<div style="padding: 3px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;">In exactly two weeks from today, almost all of our earthly possessions will be packed up and put on a container. We'll see them again in two months. TWO MONTHS. Have you ever packed for two months? It's kind of hard to anticipate weather for a weekend, but try predicting weather for a country you've never visited for almost an entire season. It should be interesting.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">While I'd love to embrace the bohemian no-possession lifestyle, the fact of the matter is we're all quite attached to this "stuff." My kids are a little concerned. Especially one little boy who plays with a rather large Batcave every single day. We're planning on mailing his prized possession directly to post and hopefully it will meet us on the other side of the pond.</div></div><div style="padding: 3px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/borda_h2o/3802404920/" title="photo sharing"><img alt="" height="480" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2518/3802404920_ddfa3a95a5.jpg" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 2px; border-left-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 2px; border-right-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 2px; border-top-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 2px;" width="640" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/borda_h2o/3802404920/">Baía de Cascais</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/borda_h2o/">borda_h2o</a>.</span></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">This is where I will be living. I know, it's unreal. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">However, what is very real right now is the length of my "to do" list. It will make your head spin. </div><div style="text-align: justify;">So, I must go and prepare for my [ahem] international move. </div><div style="text-align: justify;">Tchau!</div>Peacheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08679200032831333611noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093448454219425547.post-11110481946245110322011-01-04T20:58:00.000-08:002011-01-04T21:05:56.877-08:00CH-CH-CH-Changes.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Have you ever made a promise? A promise that you were very reluctant to keep? A promise that you hoped the other person would forget you made? I made a promise to this girl. It was a promise this girl refused to forget.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg16QJZti2AysnfyxRPtDlVbJ4Vn1S7fTVFdhI-tbnUDE4NCIZ3U0MbPNJc-DuET6cts35f9tIF3VZawZMH1KSMvW2Ol_MHdAwW1Yy6yaRVDb6I6Tue-RxsTD3YVX8Wm5PFymoxTar9T3Lo/s1600/DSC_0105.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg16QJZti2AysnfyxRPtDlVbJ4Vn1S7fTVFdhI-tbnUDE4NCIZ3U0MbPNJc-DuET6cts35f9tIF3VZawZMH1KSMvW2Ol_MHdAwW1Yy6yaRVDb6I6Tue-RxsTD3YVX8Wm5PFymoxTar9T3Lo/s640/DSC_0105.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
I promised that she could cut her hair after Christmas, in September. I knew she'd forget. I knew she'd change her mind. She didn't.<br />
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It was a painful experience.<br />
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For one of us.<br />
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In the end she decided to cut of 10 inches instead of 8, so she could donate her hair to Locks of Love. She was quite proud of herself, and I am too.....and a little bit sad.Peacheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08679200032831333611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093448454219425547.post-63993112279780168872011-01-03T18:38:00.000-08:002011-01-03T18:38:18.303-08:00Turn the Page.Has it really been almost six months? Six.Whole.Months. since I wrote my last blog entry??<br />
<br />
I've been a little pre-occupied of late, but hope to be a better blogger. Not necessarily a resolution, per se, but I'd really like to get back into the swing of things. Putting some ideas on paper.<br />
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It's January 3, a new year. Time to start fresh. So, here we go.<br />
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Turn the Page.Peacheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08679200032831333611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093448454219425547.post-38318715507292853122010-07-23T07:55:00.000-07:002010-07-23T07:55:01.269-07:00Can't Get You Out of My Head.One of my favorite things we did on vacation was visit Little Italy for dinner while we were in New York City.<div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAjg_qX0FkWvRamE9Kh_Y676cPZYJH1P6SbW1G1Q0cPu9DSTTGbvTRDXRPITupahe0hmaL3RgmTiDyXLVJQELCtbNtxPCxd-CEeEH3UAUlrO034w3yWLt5P6HV8fd-asAnTXiyF8-0_aKm/s1600/DSC_0583.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAjg_qX0FkWvRamE9Kh_Y676cPZYJH1P6SbW1G1Q0cPu9DSTTGbvTRDXRPITupahe0hmaL3RgmTiDyXLVJQELCtbNtxPCxd-CEeEH3UAUlrO034w3yWLt5P6HV8fd-asAnTXiyF8-0_aKm/s640/DSC_0583.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><br />
</div><div>Dinner was delicious! (BTW, I took over 700 photos while on vacation and this is one of only three pictures of the entire family.)</div><div><br />
</div><div>After dinner, I used the Yelp! app on my handy-dandy iPhone and found the best rated Italian bakery in the whole of New York City. Lucky for us, it was only one block away!</div><div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHRHPY86wHiY7NMNY_u8pbzPaWknnL8WsVfeDiLFkFGhEx9WKadztawwHu0oxmhRKtPvylO5hXDLNCsQkkeT1rK6DtPvw4jVbSIoFZDkXQC3GYkRmqz_VtbFeIBrITzmHs5LvaWS_7ewa5/s1600/DSC_0590.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHRHPY86wHiY7NMNY_u8pbzPaWknnL8WsVfeDiLFkFGhEx9WKadztawwHu0oxmhRKtPvylO5hXDLNCsQkkeT1rK6DtPvw4jVbSIoFZDkXQC3GYkRmqz_VtbFeIBrITzmHs5LvaWS_7ewa5/s640/DSC_0590.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
I *cannot* stop thinking about this bakery. I am SO glad that I live no where near this place.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBD85LFx6-PXpBxANZ_CUrpkdfIV4GRF0W1RFTAVBlmcU13RpdQNb6ymYqcddzR30mHa1T8xW0AjRuaxg3EjQtW15mhe3zbiyBT5NiC1Bp2EW0NcBSww-bYqwzrxDw_psrNjyDBC4N97Lk/s1600/DSC_0592.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBD85LFx6-PXpBxANZ_CUrpkdfIV4GRF0W1RFTAVBlmcU13RpdQNb6ymYqcddzR30mHa1T8xW0AjRuaxg3EjQtW15mhe3zbiyBT5NiC1Bp2EW0NcBSww-bYqwzrxDw_psrNjyDBC4N97Lk/s640/DSC_0592.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
The reviews on Yelp! did not do the Ferrara Bakery justice. All the treats were little pieces of heaven in a box. If you're in New York City, I highly recommend it. I also hear they ship....</div>Peacheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08679200032831333611noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093448454219425547.post-56043214421735919262010-07-20T15:06:00.001-07:002010-07-20T15:54:51.045-07:00Name That Tune.<div style="padding: 3px; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rainprel/4675042258/" title="photo sharing"><img alt="" height="431" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4043/4675042258_76a4845877.jpg" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 2px; border-left-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 2px; border-right-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 2px; border-top-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 2px;" width="640" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rainprel/4675042258/">Copenhagen - Nyhavn Harbour, Early Twilight II</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/rainprel/">Rainprel</a>.</span></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">Last week I was on a flight from Orlando to New York City. Almost immediately after being seated, I heard a familiar sound. Or rather, a few familiar sounds. I recognized that the family seated next to me was speaking Danish.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I never formally learned Danish. I never really learned to speak it, but I can read simple "supermarket" Danish and can recognize a few spoken words. It was so lovely to sit there for four + hours and hear the language. I guess it can best be described as recognizing the tune of the song being sung, without actually understanding all the lyrics.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">It brought back so many lovely memories. As I sat there listening to them speak, it was like listening to the soundtrack of a 2 year movie of my life. The memories of our lives there flipped through my mind like a picture book. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">It makes me wonder what memories I'll reflect on when we move on from this California chapter of our lives.</div>Peacheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08679200032831333611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093448454219425547.post-15465992212136048572010-07-19T08:18:00.000-07:002010-07-19T08:19:27.440-07:00Home, Sweet Home.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Fortunately, our pilot delivered us home safe and sound. We're back on the ground, digging out of dirty laundry and getting back into the swing of things.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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Hope you're enjoying your summer!Peacheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08679200032831333611noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093448454219425547.post-53631615900451993442010-07-14T05:49:00.000-07:002010-07-14T05:49:24.578-07:00Summertime.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7rSGpqjaNmLi8LT0tJtwC0xi7UK1a7wm6vDQiNmA4TGb4ZjSX1Z7AH8pCaDWha-StH-_dZiqkq3L5Sh8K3VNxbF-IXgYvwcxXBev_nRTF-sPQUaF7Kwx1eHnoA-NTiuTyErfvEZ-mqSxf/s1600/DSC_0055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7rSGpqjaNmLi8LT0tJtwC0xi7UK1a7wm6vDQiNmA4TGb4ZjSX1Z7AH8pCaDWha-StH-_dZiqkq3L5Sh8K3VNxbF-IXgYvwcxXBev_nRTF-sPQUaF7Kwx1eHnoA-NTiuTyErfvEZ-mqSxf/s640/DSC_0055.JPG" width="428" /></a></div><br />
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Peaches and Co. are currently on a three-state tour. But don't worry, we'll be back soon!Peacheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08679200032831333611noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093448454219425547.post-3686558503707416372010-07-02T10:46:00.000-07:002010-07-02T10:51:26.320-07:00The First of Many Lasts.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq73ibC3OSlke1IImxfWhgFZD8r962bffsy4NclNaYlaBBIpL_-1jEzx8kjss4WPOQKUaux27envxB7cmd5WtrPi3uq1w85HTmzjbLCaAmooQO20F1sdMdDUvAyh_Fsq6jyeRUMUmdkZ-0/s1600/DSC_0045_3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="592" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq73ibC3OSlke1IImxfWhgFZD8r962bffsy4NclNaYlaBBIpL_-1jEzx8kjss4WPOQKUaux27envxB7cmd5WtrPi3uq1w85HTmzjbLCaAmooQO20F1sdMdDUvAyh_Fsq6jyeRUMUmdkZ-0/s640/DSC_0045_3.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<br />
I've been down this road before.<br />
I know how it goes.<br />
<br />
You make a bucket list of must do's before you leave.<br />
Friends start distancing themselves from you.<br />
Your inclusion in certain things drops off.<br />
<br />
Your focus changes.<br />
You're no longer worried about the here and now, but your brain becomes occupied with the minutia of your move, your new locale.<br />
<br />
However, unlike other moves, this one seems so far away. In the past, we've had 90 days to prepare for a move. I'm guessing that this move is about a year away. Distancing myself now would be so sad and lonely.<br />
<br />
I've already started speculating the "lasts" that are coming up.<br />
<br />
...our last 4th of July in the States.<br />
...my last birthday in California.<br />
...our last summer at the pool club.<br />
...our last summer in California.<br />
<br />
Who knows what other "lasts" are lurking around the corner? But, I'm determined to make the most of every moment.Peacheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08679200032831333611noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093448454219425547.post-31997050394406045362010-06-24T15:49:00.001-07:002010-06-24T15:53:18.715-07:00Peaches' New Pond<div style="padding: 3px; text-align: left;">Big things are happening over at the Casa de Peaches. Big, big, things.<br />
<br />
We knew our tour would be coming to an end within the next year. We knew we'd be moving on, but we had no idea where...until last week.<br />
<br />
We found out the fabulous news that we'll be moving on to LISBON, PORTUGAL.<br />
<br />
We are all beyond excited.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/andrepipa/2155616265/" title="photo sharing"><img alt="" height="480" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2001/2155616265_004178e063.jpg" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 2px; border-left-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 2px; border-right-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 2px; border-top-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 2px;" width="640" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/andrepipa/2155616265/">LISBON, 1st JANUARY 2008</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/andrepipa/">André Pipa</a>.</span></div>Peacheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08679200032831333611noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093448454219425547.post-38337824931001790662010-04-27T17:32:00.000-07:002010-04-27T17:33:09.744-07:00Bringing Up Peaches.Ansley had a play date today after kindergarten with a classmate. It was her first play date with the little girl.<br />
<br />
I called upstairs to Ansley and asked were the girls hungry and would they like a snack.<br />
<br />
Ansley replied quickly, "Oh, YES MA'AM!"<br />
<br />
I could hear the little girl ask "Why did you say ma'am? What does that mean?"<br />
<br />
Ansley said, "I dunno. We call our mom ma'am and our dad sir. It's just what we say in our family."<br />
<br />
It's comforting to know that even though she may not know <i>why</i> she says it, she still says it.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3425/4558741389_676039c60d_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3425/4558741389_676039c60d_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
It's not always easy to raise peaches in an apple orchard.<br />
<br />
[Not that there's anything <i>wrong</i> with apples, mind you.]Peacheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08679200032831333611noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093448454219425547.post-55118333437486680252010-04-14T15:28:00.001-07:002010-04-15T16:40:43.066-07:00Apple of My Eye.<div style="padding: 3px; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/peachoutofwater/4521327439/" title="photo sharing"><img alt="" height="427" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2694/4521327439_bfa340ee12.jpg" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 2px; border-left-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 2px; border-right-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 2px; border-top-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 2px;" width="640" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/peachoutofwater/4521327439/">DSC_0109</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/peachoutofwater/">Peach Out of Water</a>.</span></div>Peacheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08679200032831333611noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093448454219425547.post-72338128804138873712010-04-03T13:50:00.001-07:002010-04-03T13:50:30.405-07:00Bunny Buddies.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2772/4487203761_2466144cf9_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="514" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2772/4487203761_2466144cf9_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Happy Easter to you and yours.Peacheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08679200032831333611noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093448454219425547.post-90851874745006061522010-04-03T12:02:00.000-07:002010-04-03T12:04:28.788-07:00This Time Last Year.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">This time last year, I was at the ER with my 2-1/2 year old son who had an accident and knocked out his two front teeth. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4015/4487598140_2014f60abd_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="490" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4015/4487598140_2014f60abd_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">This Easter weekend, I'm praying there are no ER visits.</div>Peacheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08679200032831333611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093448454219425547.post-32240930768228354872010-04-02T10:18:00.000-07:002010-04-02T10:31:17.772-07:00Sixteen Years.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ExLgpeR7jihE8Nj7sDB6VeDGsQP8XW0fqn6iemuTULx6sedJHZqRL1bShatGFDQHvfa3YisITk8KUqVg5j05F8TfO6SoQwgZsFguiv3MWml9IMUBT7kXXVbBPEXa_6d0_fe1Vc-4N2zH/s1600/sc00244f9c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ExLgpeR7jihE8Nj7sDB6VeDGsQP8XW0fqn6iemuTULx6sedJHZqRL1bShatGFDQHvfa3YisITk8KUqVg5j05F8TfO6SoQwgZsFguiv3MWml9IMUBT7kXXVbBPEXa_6d0_fe1Vc-4N2zH/s640/sc00244f9c.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Sixteen years ago today, <a href="http://www.jenniferfriedmanart.com/Home.html">my BFF and maid-of-honor</a> convinced me that walking down the aisle was the right thing to do (as opposed to bolting out the front door). Today, I thank her for that not-so-gentle nudge.<br />
<br />
In honor of my sixteenth wedding anniversary, I'm reposting one of my favorite posts. My husband has a lot of bizarre quirks. Enjoy them as I do.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; font-size: 15px;"></span><br />
<h2 class="date-header" style="color: #e1771e; font: normal normal normal 86%/normal 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.2em; line-height: 1.4em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 1.5em; text-transform: uppercase;">TUESDAY, JANUARY 6, 2009</h2><div class="post hentry" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(225, 119, 30); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.5em; padding-bottom: 1.5em;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=1093448454219425547&postID=3224093076822835487" name="3518849208769839431"></a><br />
<h3 class="post-title entry-title" style="color: black; font-size: 22px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.4em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.25em; padding-bottom: 4px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.peachoutofwater.com/2009/01/happy-birthday-my-love.html" style="color: black; display: block; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">Happy Birthday, My Love</a></h3><div class="post-header-line-1"></div><div class="post-body entry-content" style="line-height: 1.6em; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="text-align: justify;">Today is my hubby's 40th birthday. I threw him a <a href="http://peachoutofwater.blogspot.com/2008/12/s-u-r-p-r-i-s-e.html" style="color: #e1771e; text-decoration: none;">surprise party last week</a> and it was quite a surprise and quite a party. Today, for his actual birthday the children and I will be taking him to dinner at "The Cooking Restaurant," or as most people refer to it, Benihana.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">I thought I might share 10 fun facts about my husband.</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">1 - He CRACKS himself up. I mean literally. If he says something that HE thinks is funny, he can laugh to himself hysterically. And he has this deep, booming voice and when he really gets going, well it's a site to behold.</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">2 - He has one accent. You know how when you tell a story about someone with a regional dialect or foreign accent, you try to imitate it? He has one accent and they all sound the same. Hispanic, Asian, Inner-city, New Yorker. When he attempts to do an accent, it's hard to concentrate on the story because it's very distracting and makes no sense.</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">3 - He does not know the words to any song, however he will sing words (of his choosing) to the tune of the song playing with feeling and gusto. Even the kids have picked up on it and they're really starting to get a kick out of it.</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">4 - Everyone likes my husband. I, on the other hand, am the type of person about which people say "you either love her or hate her." I have no gray area. However, he is the consummate diplomat and always tactful. What can I say? Opposites attract.</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">5 - We were introduced by a mutual friend who went on to introduce at least three other couples that eventually married. We call him our own personal Chuck Woolery.</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">6 - He likes to discuss hypothetical situations. "Who do you think would win in a fight, a lion or a crocodile?" If you answer "I don't know," he will badger you until you give a response, which inevitably is not the one he would pick, and then he won't understand why you picked whatever you picked.</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">7 - He sang "Deeper Than the Holler" by Randy Travis to me at our Wedding Reception. I still smile when I hear that song.</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">8 - He has an affinity for odd names. Harry Pitts. Richard Johnson. If you ever get him started on this topic, well, refer to number 1.</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">9 - He is an extremely defensive driver. It drives me crazy because he constantly jerks the car out of the way of nothing. It must be his Spidey senses tingling.</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">10 - He says the same things over and over again. If he gets a song or a saying in his head, prepare to hear it for the next four hours or four days, and chances are he'll be singing the wrong words (refer to number 4). For instance, he recently found an old intro for the Hulk cartoons he used to watch as a child. He sang the theme song for a week straight. "Doc Bruce Banner, pelted by gamma rays, turns into the Hulk."<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 24px;">I love him for all these, and many, many more, reasons. Happy 40th Birthday, Sweetheart. You're my best friend and forever love.</span></div></div></div></div>Peacheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08679200032831333611noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093448454219425547.post-25797052680269237462010-03-29T16:16:00.000-07:002010-03-29T16:42:31.895-07:00Which Way Do We Go?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: auto;"><br />
</div><a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2736/4474129631_90605827a3_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2736/4474129631_90605827a3_b.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Men never find it easy to ask for directions or assistance reading a map, no matter how old (or young) they are.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4068/4474129629_e6c4b6ed95_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4068/4474129629_e6c4b6ed95_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Peacheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08679200032831333611noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093448454219425547.post-44439024107835374642010-03-26T14:08:00.000-07:002010-03-26T14:13:18.361-07:00How YOU Doin?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4015/4465747128_ee5a470ab0_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="450" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4015/4465747128_ee5a470ab0_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Check out that Euro--right hand drive--style. He is nothing but trouble.Peacheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08679200032831333611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093448454219425547.post-43226772651675280132010-03-24T15:37:00.000-07:002010-03-24T21:16:02.977-07:00Not All Jelly Beans Are Created Equal.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Do not ever. I repeat, ever. Give your three year old boy Jelly Belly's "Sport Beans". It will take hours for him to crash.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlBzMlnNjj9CeGBnLm_lrVv7T5kxvmRlU59_Ibf1jgvo51RK3u_sS71YGaHl_nXphSURu0dVs7oQ2w3sj5YEF3Q4MY0VDAOIL8JhXxcFzRlMfhImQBbWSgkTb5zc_Up-3a1jz_loJOSMiw/s1600/DSC_0011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlBzMlnNjj9CeGBnLm_lrVv7T5kxvmRlU59_Ibf1jgvo51RK3u_sS71YGaHl_nXphSURu0dVs7oQ2w3sj5YEF3Q4MY0VDAOIL8JhXxcFzRlMfhImQBbWSgkTb5zc_Up-3a1jz_loJOSMiw/s640/DSC_0011.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTf0Ckk4vXdJJ9v18oAU5EtQgrvjZEwv_W9UC2FulmYJmARPSfZxBu2wsU-Vf0rS_N7_C7aUvI2Yzz0F0igpxXal0c56ruBsaO5w6rt0zZifVmvo7TaTtjKRbCoAJVa50aKlaH89S_zjkO/s1600/DSC_0015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTf0Ckk4vXdJJ9v18oAU5EtQgrvjZEwv_W9UC2FulmYJmARPSfZxBu2wsU-Vf0rS_N7_C7aUvI2Yzz0F0igpxXal0c56ruBsaO5w6rt0zZifVmvo7TaTtjKRbCoAJVa50aKlaH89S_zjkO/s640/DSC_0015.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>Peacheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08679200032831333611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093448454219425547.post-29086469172124657492010-03-21T17:10:00.000-07:002010-03-21T17:11:19.837-07:00Finish Line.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2760/4451871727_3c839fd56a_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="410" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2760/4451871727_3c839fd56a_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">We did it. <a href="http://mainlyamidwife.blogspot.com/">Mainly a Midwife</a> and I accomplished a major life goal. We completed our first 5K this morning. If my body didn't feel so tired, I wouldn't believe it myself.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Please pardon my t-shirt. It is --and I am not kidding-- 22 years old. It's my favorite t-shirt and is so comfy. This morning there was a chill in the air and I took the opportunity to wear old trusty one more time. After catching a glimpse of myself in my well-loved tee, I've decided he might be heading towards retirement.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I have decided that come Monday, I'm starting a new program. It's called "5K to Couch." I'm hanging up the running shoes for a while. It seems ---and I'm no expert here-- that my excessive running and additional exercise <i>might</i> be hindering me from losing the stress out weight I gained last year. So I'm planning on dialing down the exercise until such time as my weight starts to creep back into my comfort zone--or at least until I'm out of fat jeans and into 'regular' jeans again.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Meet me on the couch.</div>Peacheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08679200032831333611noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093448454219425547.post-9855129771239510862010-03-19T18:21:00.000-07:002010-03-19T18:56:04.607-07:00Where the Rubber Meets the Road.<div style="text-align: justify;">This is it. Race weekend. I will be running my first 5K on Sunday. The only problem I foresee is that I have been sick this week, really sick. The last day I ran was this past Monday, which means I missed two runs. Until this week, I hadn't missed any runs in 11 weeks of training.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">During the last 2+ months of training, I have not run outside...AT ALL. To say I'm nervous, would be a huge understatement. I'm what you might call, "Grace-Challenged" to be more precise, somewhat of a klutz, which is why I run on the treadmill. I like my two front teeth thankyouverymuch and I prefer to keep them right where they are. I'm also worried that this bladder challenged non-runner has the potential to <i>really</i> embarrass herself in a crowd composed of residents from our small town.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">It would be so easy for me to back out. I could hang it all on being sick this past week. But, I won't. I can't. I have to do it and mark it off my to do list.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I just pray I survive and that I don't pee my pants. Ok, I'll probably survive and I'll also probably pee my pants, I just hope no one notices. </div>Peacheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08679200032831333611noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093448454219425547.post-38467032949591719812010-03-17T10:30:00.000-07:002010-03-17T10:29:22.528-07:00Happy St. Patrick's Day, Y'all!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2uTd3RuEx7OiKmV1EeCPGssPSqXhfVQLhPTYPO7vgLW79dM-XbtwSIcp3U2ceBnc3psQmZRHCfaiVJJmOJL1BcBfmR_anfYsCv-6AIeeKvzryRrZpNRZu3Ax61FpfeDCnFaktwe0UO5-x/s1600-h/DSC_0392.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2uTd3RuEx7OiKmV1EeCPGssPSqXhfVQLhPTYPO7vgLW79dM-XbtwSIcp3U2ceBnc3psQmZRHCfaiVJJmOJL1BcBfmR_anfYsCv-6AIeeKvzryRrZpNRZu3Ax61FpfeDCnFaktwe0UO5-x/s640/DSC_0392.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
We found a wee Leprechaun, but nary a rainbow nor pot of gold in sight.Peacheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08679200032831333611noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093448454219425547.post-38038890868872320722010-03-17T10:19:00.000-07:002010-03-17T10:28:12.954-07:00View from the Street.<div style="text-align: justify;">This past weekend we took the kids into San Francisco to participate in the St. Patrick's Day parade. A work comrade of my husband's invited us to walk in the parade with him and his family. We thought the kids would really get a kick out of it, so we willingly obliged. It ended up being one of the funnest things we've done since we moved to California.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">A little pre-parade reflection primping.</div><br />
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After a quick lesson in flag waving, we were off and marching.<br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;">While marching in the parade, I had an exceptional vantage point for all the colorful characters lining the parade route. Indulge my rather blurry photos, because I found some of them quite comical.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div>My children were convinced this was a leprechaun. I didn't have the heart to disagree.<br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;">I suspect this gentleman had no formal affiliation with the parade. He did have a homemade Segway constructed with a stool and a lawn mower motor. He zipped all around us on the parade route, circling the vehicles.</div><br />
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Could this baby all decked out in his Irish gear be any cuter?<br />
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I thought this group of young folks was particularly festive.<br />
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Check out these smiling Irish eyes.<br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;">The most important thing I learned was when marching in a parade behind the horses, you have to watch your step <i>and </i>the step of your young children marching behind said horses.</div>Peacheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08679200032831333611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093448454219425547.post-68663102014398310282010-03-10T11:36:00.000-08:002010-03-10T12:14:21.069-08:00Graduation Day.Today is a graduation day, of sorts. Nine weeks ago I started the <a href="http://www.peachoutofwater.com/2010/01/getting-off-couch.html">Couch to 5K</a> running program along with two of my friends. Today, I completed Week 9 Day 3 of the program and I've officially graduated. I completed today's 5K training run in 39 minutes, or about 13 minutes per mile. It's not going to win me an Olympic medal, but I'm proud of it.<br />
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It's hard for me to believe that I've consistently kept up my exercise at least three days a week for the last NINE weeks. It's almost unbelievable to me at this point.<br />
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My New Year's resolution was to complete the program and run a 5K. We're scheduled to run our first 5K on March 21st.<br />
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I'm going to go celebrate this milestone with a shower!!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLxPcopke560iew3yL-c9QA5O4qgrdbq0Ziqcf6FNDg-bsxbi3X02ed0jc4GDL5JZuWf6WWX5LelV9ExnFGngnr_gVGkURxAdG2tqMGtzZsynCJBRO5a6ElHvqrVWdaCZIMqUwI9tVIppG/s1600-h/homer_running.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLxPcopke560iew3yL-c9QA5O4qgrdbq0Ziqcf6FNDg-bsxbi3X02ed0jc4GDL5JZuWf6WWX5LelV9ExnFGngnr_gVGkURxAdG2tqMGtzZsynCJBRO5a6ElHvqrVWdaCZIMqUwI9tVIppG/s640/homer_running.jpg" width="545" /></a></div>Peacheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08679200032831333611noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093448454219425547.post-65651664374606593482010-03-03T14:34:00.000-08:002010-03-03T14:44:53.294-08:00Little Blessings.Clayton enjoys saying the blessing he learned at preschool at the dinner table every night.<br />
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"For food and friends and love all around us, we thank you Lord."<br />
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He almost always throws in a "and make Mommy feel better" or my personal favorite "I hope I feel better" and you may or not be aware that he needs healing at that particular time.<br />
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Last week he was at a loss for who needed healing. His blessing stopped and he said "Mom, who needs to feel better?" I responded, "Riley Scott."<br />
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"Ok. and I hope Riley & Katie's Riley feels better."Peacheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08679200032831333611noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093448454219425547.post-34800009415210656402010-02-03T12:45:00.000-08:002010-02-03T12:47:27.752-08:00The Big Give.<div style="text-align: justify;">I have a very hard time looking at the pictures of the Haiti earthquake victims. How is it that we can have such extreme wealth and abundance in this country, while an island nation not too far away from us is suffering in such abject poverty?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I had already made cash donations to various organizations, some good and some questionable (boy, I wished I had known that before I texted my funds over). But, I felt like I wanted to DO something.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">That's when I saw a little Tweet about the collection of shoes for a charity called <a href="http://www.soles4souls.org/">Soles 4 Souls</a>. I figured, I can do this. It's easy and it's effective and for a country filled with men, women and children who've never owned a pair of shoes, much needed help.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I sent out a request to my local friends on Facebook and received an overwhelming response. In the end, we donated 7 large kitchen garbage bags FULL of shoes. I estimate it was close to 100 pairs of shoes. Phenomenal and relatively easy to accomplish. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Check out their <a href="http://www.soles4souls.org/">website</a> for all the different ways you can give.</div>Peacheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08679200032831333611noreply@blogger.com3