I went to my high school ten year reunion today. I found that I felt much less awkward striking up a conversation with my friends from the past whose blogs or FB status updates I had kept up with. Thanks Blogger and Facebook.

I went to my high school ten year reunion today. I found that I felt much less awkward striking up a conversation with my friends from the past whose blogs or FB status updates I had kept up with. Thanks Blogger and Facebook.

On Saturday we went to a BBQ for Richard’s firm that was at the home of one of the partners.
It was a beautiful home, the type of home that makes someone with three small children squirm. High ceilings, original artwork and a beautiful flared staircase. The slightest squeak from Miriam reverberated off the granite counters and tile floors.
When we arrived most of the children were in the back swimming. It was really hot outside so Richard and I opted to eat in the cool of the mansion. Very bold. But the kids did well and when they were finished I took them into a bathroom to change into their swimsuits.
Located on the wall, where a light-switch would be found in most homes, was a small device containing various buttons for things like lights, fans and probably the ignition to the BWM in the garage. I made my best guess, pushed a button and the lights came on gradually like they do in a movie theater. Wow.
Cameron threw the toilet seat up to relieve himself and just as things began to “flow”, the lid slammed back down and he relieved himself all over the tile floor. I panicked. After trying to figure out the best way to clean up without leaving behind any evidence/odor or having to enlist the assistance of the hostess I ended up using one of the beach towells we brought. I shoved it into the bottom of our bag and warned the boys not to retrieve it.
The rest of the afternoon went smoothly but as we drove out the gate at the end of the long driveway I couldn’t but help breathing a sigh of relief.
On Saturday we floated the Boise river with some friends. I hope they don’t mind my sharing this story. Not too far into our float, after we had all six children somewhat settled by shoving licorice in their faces we started approaching a woman, fully dressed in street clothes, standing in the middle of the river holding on to her tube. Our logistics were thus: Richard and I with our two boys in one raft, our friend with three of her children in another raft, and her husband and their little boy on a large tube. For much of the river we kept our rafts together by holding on to the ropes that run around the top of the rafts. Since the woman was right in the current we couldn’t avoid her and sort of bumped our way past.
Some time went by and I was distracted by various river diversions but then I noticed that the woman was back on her tube floating along with our little group. Upon closer investigation I noticed that she was holding on to the rope of Jason’s tube. Really awkward. Just floating along with us, without saying a word. I looked at Tricia and whispered “What’s up with her? Why is she holding on to his tube?”
I mean, I’m not trying to be a river snob here, it was just a little odd. A complete stranger joining our party with a tight grip on my friend’s husband’s tube.
“He’s hot.” Tricia said matter-of-factly.
After awhile Jason started small talk and eventually I think he asked her name. Turns out she had been separted from her own group, and I guess we looked like pleasant company. Further down the river she spotted her family on the shore and Jason gave her tube a good shove toward the river’s edge. Farewell river companion.
We had a great time, and the kids [mostly] loved it. I wish I had pictures but we were too worried about dropping the camera overboard.




She’s still sucking her thumb but usually it is just when she is tired and/or falling asleep.
This is Jewel at a performance in Boise, forever endearing herself into the hearts of the locals.






1. 28 June 2010- Richard and I celebrated seven years of marriage. I am certainly hoping that neither of us experiences any type of itching in the next 12 months. Although I read that these days the “seven year itch” might be more accurately called the “second year itch” since marriages are not lasting as long as they used to. In which case, we have long since been in the clear.












Wow. I left my deepest thoughts of late front and center on my blog for a l.o.n.g. time and I only got one comment? Come on deep thinkers!
We’ve been busy around here. L.O.T.S. to post about tomorrow.
Don’t you l.o.v.e. it when people employ improper use of punctuation for added emphasis?