A few photos from my weekend in California with family who is more than a touch photogenic:
(His favorite sock, although he only has one. Because it was actually a sock puppet. But try explaining this to a 4 year old who, “LOVES HIS PUPPY SOCK!”)
As planned, we celebrated Matt’s birthday yesterday with much fanfare and made him feel at home. There were a dozen friends here who treated him royally. By the end of the afternoon, we were racing in the pool, reading magazines in the shade and truly enjoying the warm weather and great company. I lost the swimming race — which I’ll happily blame on my bikini — and managed to lose my verve to accomplish anything else.
More than once, I’ve been in a foreign country for a birthday or holiday. The Roca family threw me a quinceanera when I lived in Mexico; I’ll always be thankful for their kindness and how they went so far as to buy me a gold ring — the gift they gave their own daughters on their 15th birthdays. I think I was the only white girl in town to get such a fiesta. It was a particularly hard birthday because I was painfully homesick. I wasn’t supposed to see my family for the year, but thankfully the swim team I was competing with had a meet in El Paso, Texas the week before. My parents went rogue and drove with my brother to the border. We spent the weekend together at the meet, with my team and new high school friends and catching up as quickly as we could.
My minster emailed me this horrifying photo yesterday; there was a potential threat of posting it to his Facebook page, so I am taking back the power and fully making fun of myself before he has the chance.
Ah, seventh grade, how I loved thee. If nothing else, apparently I didn’t have a vain bone in my body. Pretty sure I’ve got 3,000 different layers of bangs going on, not to mention that stylish plastic jewelry. To my credit, we were leaving for a work trip in northern Arizona and I’m pretty sure we were headed to Slide Rock park, hence the ever-so-stylish cut-off jean shorts. That’s a fair excuse, right?