National Doughnut Day

June found M. and I back in the LBC to visit the Wilsons and meet Baby Audrey. One morning, Brian and I were up early with the kids, and we saw on the news that it was National Doughnut Day. I didn't even KNOW that there WAS a National Doughnut Day! Of course, I didn't need any better justification to go get some doughnuts, so we packed the kids in the car in their pajamas and took off to Krispy Kreme to get our free doughnuts!

Yay! Krispy Kreme!

Decisions, decisions...

A balanced and nutritious breakfast!

We LOVE Doughnut Day!

Earth Day Blossoms

In honor of Earth Day this year, I present the photos I took while walking to our local Earth Day celebration. It's days like this that remind me to get out of the car more often, even if it is just to see the flowers in my neighbors' yards.

Have a very green day!

Eastertime in the LBC

Easter in Long Beach. There were eggs...


And adorable babies to hunt the eggs...


And Easter brunch at Parker's Lighthouse...


And merry-go-round rides in Shoreline Village.







Thank you Easter Bunny!

Welcoming 2008

It ain't Vegas, but it's home.

I love him just as much this year as last year.

And a happy new year!

A Christmas Gift for You!

As a Christmas gift for my readers (all 12 of them a day), I thought I would share the recipe for our favorite Christmas drink, Cola de Mono (Tail of the Monkey). It's not a secret recipe or anything--I got it out of the Sundays at Moosewood cookbook (the only vegetarian cookbook allowed in our house) several years ago--but I have included my tips for success, so MERRY CHRISTMAS!

What you will need:
12 cups of milk (whole or 2% work best)
2 cups of white sugar
5 cinnamon sticks
1/2 cup of instant coffee
2 teaspoons of vanilla extract
4 cups tequila

A one gallon glass jug (buy a gallon of apple cider, drink the juice, and voila! you have a glass jug!
A large stockpot
A funnel

What to Do:
In stockpot, bring milk, sugar, and cinnamon sticks to a boil. (Warning: AS SOON AS the milk starts to boil, it will rapidly foam over. This is why you need to use a large pot and keep a close eye on your milk...trust me, I have had to scrub milk off the stovetop more than once.)

Remove milk from heat and stir in instant coffee. Let sit for an hour to cool down.

Once cooled, remove cinnamon sticks and pour milk into gallon jug using funnel to avoid a really horrific mess (again, experience is the best teacher). Put in refrigerator to chill.

Once chilled, add tequila and vanilla.

Serve cold. "Tail" will keep in the refrigerator for up to 2 weeks, although it rarely lasts that long.


Despite the odd-sounding combination of ingredients, this drink is GOOD STUFF! However, because it is so tasty and so sweet, people have a tendency to suck it down. Beware, for the Tail of the Monkey will knock you right on your ass if you do not exercise restraint!

Enjoy, and Merry Christmas!

A Christmas Miracle!

Thank you, Baby Jesus, for the three Christmas cards I got today. I love the Westermans, the Kochs, and the Hollmeiers. Plus, two of them were PHOTO cards! My favorite! In honor of this Christmas miracle, have a dose of holiday adorableness...

This one goes out to Dan:

Crazy Christmas Lady

Okay, after my last post my beloved readers may be wondering, "Why has Tracy become psychotic over a few Christmas cards?" You have to understand my over-developed sense of Christmas spirit. Starting the Saturday after Thanksgiving (because Christmas starts the day after Thanksgiving, NOT at Halloween!), my house gets transformed. First, I must find the PERFECT tree:

Luckily, I have a few good friends who understand that my OCD becomes particularly rampant during Christmas tree shopping, particularly Crystal, who sets aside a whole day every year to join me in my search. Happily, this year I only took an hour to find the perfect tree, rather than the all-day search that I usually undergo.

Then--oh the irony--I must employ other people to put the lights on my perfect tree because I am allergic to pine needles and break out in a rash when my skin comes into contact with those prickly buggers. Thus was the Christmas Tree Decorating Party born eleven years ago. To persuade my friends to take on the task of putting thousands of lights on my tree according to my very stringent lighting standards, I feed them lots of food and fill them up with lots of free booze.

This year we had twenty-two laborers, including Ben, who showed his holiday spirit by bringing his Dick-in-a-Box.

(Anyone brave enough to open the gift saw this:)


Himself and I also work very hard.


Not until my house looks like Christmas vomited all over it am I happy.

Then all there is to do until Christmas is sit back, admire my tree, drink copious amounts of 'nog, make cookies, and wait for the Christmas cards to start rolling in. (Imagine me as Bart Simpson to the mail lady--"Lady, where's my spy camera?! Where's my spy camera? Where's my spy camera?") I need those Christmas cards like a junkie needs a vein. They complete me. So thank you, Micaela, Heather, Megan, Erin, Dad, and Becky...you are at the top of Santa's "nice" list.

A Visit to St. Nick

I have my chocolate milk and am prepared to meet Santa.

Here I come, Santa!

Santa, where are you?

Dammit, Luci, I want to go first!

WOAH! What the hell is this?! I have CHANGED MY MIND!

No means NO, Mama!

Why do they torture me like this?

Fine. Just take the F--ing picture already.

Independence Day

Though we've lived in Reno for nearly six years now, we had never bothered to attend the fabulous Fourth of July fireworks at Lake Tahoe. So this year, I insisted that we make the trip, even though it meant that I would have to be seen in a bathing suit for the first time since I was pregnant. Horrors! But I did it, and I even managed to strike a pose when my mother called out for a snapshot. And here I am, for all the blogosphere to see...

That's me in the one-piece...I don't think I'll ever be comfortable enough to expose my stretch marks to the world.

Tah-dah! I was so happy to be relaxing on the beach for the whole day that I managed to strike my own blow for independence...independence from my body anxiety. (At least for the day.)

Micaela and I got up at 4:30--AM that is--to be at the beach by six so that we would be assured a good spot when the beach opened at eight. Even at 6:00 we were sixth in line to be let in. After about half an hour, there were twenty or so cars waiting, and people were getting out of the cars behind us and sneaking out to the beach before it opened to claim prime spots. Because, you know, they're special and shouldn't have to wait in line behind the people that got there earlier. Sometimes I just hate people. Like this time at the Cake concert when several people shoved in front of us because "We're really big fans." Or the guys during the fireworks display who refused to sit down--even though they were blocking the view of dozens of people and even though their own girlfriends were tugging on their arms trying to get them to sit. (I don't know about you, but wouldn't that be a deal-breaker?) When people started calling out for them to sit down, one of them shouted out, "I can stand taller if you want!" I mean, WHY? Why do people have to be like that? Why do people think that on a beach or concert full of thousands of people, they should receive special treatment?

After the assholes refused to sit down, I think I might have commented--possibly in a loud voice--that I hoped their dicks shriveled up and fell off, and hopefully soon, before they were allowed to breed.

That wasn't right, either, but I do have a temper.

But the fireworks were spectacular--well worth the wait and the crowds and the assholes. I didn't know they made fireworks quite that big...I suspect that Gandalf was on a barge on the lake, orchestrating the whole thing. I tried to take pictures, but they were all puny in comparison, and many of them were tainted with asshole head.

Oh, and here is a free parenting tip for the day. If going to the beach with a young'un, invest in a good raft. It can serve as a raft, a kiddie pool, and, later in the evening, a bed.

My Pukey Mother's Day Weekend

My first Mother's Day came very close to being a miserable one. The Friday before, I came down with the nastiest bug I have ever come across...let's call it the Puke Once and Come Very Close to Death in Two Days Bug. First it ravaged the household of our friends, then it made its way into the House of Sangstellero.

Friday, Ian and I dropped M. off with friends and went out for a bite to eat before going to see 28 Weeks Later. (For those of you who understand our affinity for zombie flicks, you will know that this was a BIG DEAL.) As soon as we sat down to eat, I realized I wasn't feeling very well. I figured it was just because I hadn't eaten much all day, and filling up my belly would make me feel better. (Wrong.) By the time we got to the movie theater, I was feeling really bad, but I toughed it out and played some Ms. Pacman with Ian because even when death is knocking on my door, I cannot pass up the opportunity to prove to my husband that I am the queen of Ms. Pacman and he should bow before me. We eventually took our seats, and I suffered through the previews. At the very moment the last preview was playing, I realized without a doubt that my dinner was not going to stay down. I leaped out of my seat and ran to the restroom, but I knew, just knew, as soon as I opened the door, that I wasn't going to make it. And I didn't. As soon as I opened the door to the stall, I erupted. I know that The Exorcist analogy is a common one, but I am going to fall back on it because nothing else can properly describe how badly I violated that bathroom stall. Over and over. Thank God nobody else was in the restroom. Did I mention that I had enchilada soup for dinner? Bright red enchilada soup. When I was done, it looked like someone had hosed the stall down in blood. So there I stood, absolutely mortified, inspecting the carnage I had just wreaked and wondering what in the hell to do about it:

1. Ignore the mess and run away. Quickly.
2. Go find an employee to report the horrible mess that SOME OTHER very rude person had left in the bathroom.
3. Take responsibility for my own puke, and find someone to help me.

What would Jesus do?

What would you do?

Needless to say, we did not see the movie. I went home and crawled into bed where I stayed for the next 36 hours, miserably sick.



Saturday, in the middle of my twelfth popsicle, we got a call telling us that the house we had applied for on Thursday, the house we really, really liked, was ours to rent immediately. I was SO happy, though in my weakened state, I couldn't imagine how I was possibly going to drag my ass out of bed and start packing.

The nice thing, though, about the Puke Once and Come Very Close to Death in Two Days bug is that it burns itself out fairly quickly. By Sunday morning I felt a lot better, although fragile. Ian said he would make me anything I wanted for my Mother's Day breakfast. I wanted doughnuts, but I thought better of eating loads of sugar and fat for breakfast in my fragile state. Ditto for eggs benedict, biscuits and gravy, and all of my other favorite breakfast fare. Finally I gave up, ate a bowl of cereal, and told Ian to take me out for Mother's Day lunch.

Italian food sounded safe, so we headed to some new crappy Italian chain restaurant in town whose name I cannot even remember.

"I want everything on the menu, Mama!"

"Uh, Daddy? I think you got this upside down."

"That's better"

After lunch, we headed to Lowe's to pick up a giant drum of eggshell paint because the living room of our new house was mauve, and I don't do mauve.

How we spent the majority of Mother's Day.

So my first Mother's Day was spent feeling semi-pukey and doing new-house chores. And I loved it.

You Say it's your Earth Day?

I meant to post this over the weekend, but I got caught up in, you know, stuff. So here is my belated Earth Day post.


Dear Planet Earth:

Hey there! Well, another year together...I can't believe we made it! I just wanted to let you know that you are the best planet EVER! You are always there for me when I need you, and you make me happy when I'm down. Plus, you keep me alive each and every day. Thanks for that.

I know some of the other kids bully you and treat you like shit. I am SO sorry about that! All I can say is THEY SUCK! If only they understood what a cool planet you really are, then they wouldn't be such jerks. Someday they'll be old and miserable and they'll be all like "Why weren't we nicer to Earth? We really need her now!" But I know that you are the coolest planet EVER, and I will never forget that.

We've had some great times together, right? Remember that time in Yosemite? Man, you looked SO hot that day! And those times when you made SOOOO many flowers? Crazy. Oh, and all that oxygen you make every day? So I can breath? You are SO sweet to do that!

I can't wait to spend some time with you this summer...it will be WILD! I'll bring the beer if you bring the food!

Love ya!
Tracy

P.S. PE+TS=BFF



1) Yosemite NP, 1997
2) Great Basin NP, 2004
3) Kansas, 2004
4) Montana De Oro, 1992
5) Arches NP, 2004
6) Yosemite, 1993

Easter, Part Two

Easter pictures continue, courtesy of Brian.

Saturday night found us back at our rental where Auntie Hannah met us. We absolutely HAD to color eggs, even though by the time we got around to it, the babies were both in bed. Still, after a few glasses of wine, egg coloring was a blast. I think that Hannah even dyed an egg IN her wine!


Lacking any of the basic coloring accoutrement (crayons, stickers, what have you), Hannah raided the tool drawer and came up with scotch tape, some old masking tape, and emergency candles. We made do and came up with some pretty impressive eggs.


On Easter Sunday we were up bright and early so that the babies could take part in the egg hunt at the park across the street. First, though, they got to see what the Easter Bunny brought them...a basket full of sugary goodness for Claire, and Mr. Bonecruncher the Easter Shark for Matilda. Mr. Bonecruncher likes to eat Peeps.


Then it was off to the park across the street for the egg hunt. There was a special hunt for kids two and under, in their own part of the park, but that lasted about all of two minutes before the big kids invaded and stole all the eggs. Matilda managed to find two eggs, and Claire three, before all the eggs were gone.

"I'm ready for eggs!"

Matilda finds her first egg.

"Dear God! What is this horrible creature?!"

Since there were no more eggs, Matilda took her first ride on a swing...

She was unimpressed.


After the hunt, Hannah and I drove to SLO to go to church. I hadn't been to church in, oh...a decade or so, so I was pleased to find out that I remembered how to do it. While we were gone, Erin and Ian, our resident gourmet chefs, whipped up an Easter feast to be proud of. Then Hannah and Erin came up with various ways to torture Peeps--Hannah opted for a classic roasting over an open flame, while Erin went straight for the microwave...























and I settled in for a nice Easter nap with Mr Bonecruncher.