Archive for the ‘the ones about friends’ Category

So as I was saying, I’m falling for autumn or at least this autumn.

The past week and half the temperatures have hung lazily at 75 degrees.

Each day promises to be the last of sundress weather.

And I am powerless to the beckoning of sunshine. I can no more stay inside than I can go outside when the sun hibernates.

On Sunday we celebrated the last day of summer by not picking apples.

Unless you count the ones that were already on the ground (and the two or three that Ava prematurely pulled off the the tree).

Of course we and our friends drove out to the orchard with every intention of picking a bushel of apples, but apparently we weren’t the only that were enticed by late summer sunshine. All the ripe apples had been picked for the day. So we picked hand-fulls of clover instead.

While this compromise was appealing to little girls who found clover crowns

and clover chains to be a “cute” accessory,

clover brats and baked clover crisp are not very enticing. Unless you happen to be a goat.

Thankfully there was an apple concession stand to save Hungryman and his co-horts from starving.

Or eating clover.

We finished our outing by picking pre-picked apples out of giant bins and eating hot apple crisp.

Perhaps fall is a warm and scrumptious after all.

I think it’s time for me to let go of sweet summer and fall into the crimson hues of autumn.

As for our friends, they are following the sun west to L.A.

I’ll miss them and the sun.

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So remember when I threw down my cell phone in shock and horror?

Well, I haven’t exactly replaced it. For the past few weeks, I’ve been pretending it’s 1996, except I live with Nate and not with Shanel.

And honestly, I don’t miss the phone much. Except the fact that my favorite Shanel is about to disown me. And you can’t really blame her. I was hard to get a hold of when I had a cell phone, and now it’s nearly impossible.

At some point yesterday, Qwest decided to push my backwards plunge seven decades further. Our land line now sound like a fog horn. It’s not just static, it’s seriously loud static. I can’t call you. You can’t call me. You can’t even leave me a voice mail.  Not that I would remember to check it.

HungryMan, who still lives in 2008 tried to call Qwest on his fancy cell phone, but they were “experiencing an unusually high phone volume” and unable to answer our call. Apparently we aren’t the only ones who have lost touch. He sent in a help desk ticket and we are hoping a technician comes soon.

So now I am completely phoneless. It’s circa 1930 over here if you don’t count the internet, which I don’t.

In case of an emergency I will be instant messaging 9-1-1 or running to my neighbor’s house like Little House on the Prairie, except that I don’t live on a prairie and the nearest house is about ten paces away.

I might as well put on my apron and bake a cherry pie. I’d invite you over for a slice, but I don’t know how to reach out.

P.S. If anyone sees Shanel, tell her that I think she’s the best and will call her as soon as I am able!

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Remember when I told you about how HungryMan was flinging our friend, Johnny through the water like Indiana’s bull whip. I witnessed this harrowing event through the lens of our video camera. The jetski-dragging-tubing-fool footage has been hiding out our computer for weeks due to the very poor camera work (me).

What can I say? I was so worried that I was witnessing Johnny’s lasts moments on earth that I forgot to zoom in. I apologize.

So just in case you think that I make up all of the HungryMan’s antics for good blog fodder, here’s your proof in miniature:

And lest you think HungryMan reserves this water torture for dudes only, let me direct you to Exhibit B.

Three years ago, we invited HungryMan’s old roommates from House Fridley and their ladies to come down to the lake. We celebrated HungyMan’s 28th birthday with high-speed boating, piles of burgers, grilled peaches, and a little game he likes to call, “shake ‘n’ bake.”

It’s LOVE in any language.

We are headed down to the lake with the nearly the same gang this morning to celebrate HungryMan’s 31st birthday.

Fortunately for me and my lungs the jetski went into early retirement this spring.

Have a great weekend everyone!!

This post is done, why are still scrolling down? Oh, you want more HungryMan jetski action? You want to see the full version of the Shake ‘n’ Bake video, don’t you? Fine. Here it is.

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I know that many of you have been following the story of little Stellan, the unborn son of my friend MckMama. Thank you so much for praying for them. There were amazing answers to prayers today, and while the road to recovery is still long there is more hope on the horizon. Please continue to pray for them.

I have had the joy of visiting my friend at the hospital, and have witnessed how your prayers and comments are encouraging her. Ava has accompanied me there a couple of times and even applied the last coat of her pedicure.

Her VBS lesson that morning was on serving others, so she was excited to apply that with a shiny, sheer lacquer.

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Tonight little Stellan, the not yet born son of my college roommate, is fighting for his life. His little heart is beating so fast and so irregularly that it can’t survive. He needs a miracle. We are praying that the Great Physician will touch little Stellan’s heart and save him.

If you would like to join the Around The Clock Prayer Vigil For Stellan, please go here.

After visiting Stellan’s mama at the hospital tonight, Ava heard that she had received more bad news and was upset.

“Mama, is Baby Stellan’s Mama crying?”

“Yes, honey.”

“Is it the crying in her heart or the crying down her face?”

“Both, sweetie. We need to pray for her.”

“And for Baby Stellan.”

Please join us in praying for this sweet babe and his lovely mama. It is our deepest hope that we will meet little Stellan on this side of Heaven.

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Goodbye Online Dating. Hello Online Play Groups.

After months of reading about sweet Julia and thinking, “Oh, that sounds just like Ava” or writing an Ava-antic and receiving a comment about how “Julia does the same thing,” the pint-sized virtual friends met.

My pal MckMama and her sister threw an all-out birthday bash inviting seasoned friends and blogger friends to The Meadows, an enchanted piece of this earth that she calls home.

The men threw their weight around the lake on two supercharged jetskis, churning up enough water to make the neighbors peer out their bay windows to see if a seaplane landing strip had been redirected to their wake-free lake.

HungryMan challenged his long-time water rival Johnny to Interstate Tubing, pulling him white knuckled across the lakes at speeds that exceed highway limits.

The girls huddled around the dock stupified at Johnny’s ability to withstand severe water torture and horrified at HungryMan’s utter disregard for life. Surprisingly, there were no other takers for tube ride pulled by Hungryman. Even Ava refused to ride on the jetski with her daddy. Shocking, I know.

I spent the afternoon catching up with dear college friends and former roommates,

(back: Kristi, MckMama, Me, Yvette. front: Shanel, Becky)

and meeting blogger friends that I have only read about.

(Hilary, Angela, MckMama, Me, Tiffany, Kristi, Yvette & Cosette)

While I was being kindly chastised for taking “too many breaks,” Ava and Julia were forming a friendship that hitherto had only existed in the comment section of their mamas’ blogs. I found these two skipping down the stony path while comparing swimming suit stripes. They were both eagerly awaiting a piece of the princess birthday cake. It was clear that the two were quickly united in their keen sense of summer fashion and sugar-laden sweets.

Ava didn’t want to leave all her newly acquired friends until she heard she was going to ride in Shanel’s car.

“I have always wanted to ride in your car!” she squealed as she grabbed Shanel’s hand.

Shanel opened the rear door and Ava peered in, announcing, “It’s not dirty at all!”

Thank, Ava. Really, it’s not my fault that you insist on carrying out two purses full of crayons, polly pockets, notepads, flash cards, chapsticks and who-knows-what each time we go out to the car. I cannot be held responsible for all the treasures you store in the creases of the back seat.

As we pulled away, Ava stared up at stylishly streamlined dash that makes a VW so hip and said, “Oh Shanel, your car is so beautiful!”

Apparently her good taste extends beyond new friends. Here’s to beautiful friendships and many more parties at The Meadows.

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The ice cream lovers have left the city in search of the perfect cone.

We packed the four scoops in Heather’s van with HungryMan, baby Ilsa and more than our fair share of luggage.

We’re headed south to more lake county in search of new adventures.

Preferably adventures that end with a crispy cone and not a emergency vehicle.

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