Travel Light But Get Double Prints

Less is more, light in life, clutter free zone.  We all want that.  While getting a personal organizer is an option (yeah spoiled), but really, we can do it ourselves.  Yes.  We can do it.  Toss out what we don't need, remember what is in the mystery boxes of storage shelving, or what somebody else may find handy.  Create more cubic air in our homes and in our lives.  How hard can it be?  Seems this expression has been overused by me lately, according to my husband (just because he:
a) put in a new bathroom sink/ cabinet
b) managed 1200lbs of Arizona fossils stone for a side yard (necessary) patio
c) cut down 50 cubic feet of the most stubborn bouganvillas this side of the 101.

Whilst talking to my cousin, my travel ignitor, pet pusher and confidant...we'll call him SPF for short.
Scudly P. Farkas.  I think I know what the "P" stands for but I digress...I may not.  We grew up together and I've always looked up to him...not just 'cause I'm on the edge of the "average" scale and he the "tall."  He's thinky, funny, left (another blog) and well, I can talk to him about anything...and I mean anything, like googling guavas, etc.  He's a few years older than me.

Tonight we discussed the photo collection.  We grew up artistic and probably both got Mickey Mouse cameras from our various grandmothers.  Me, Grandma Lola...He, Grandma Goldie.  I really did receive one and this must be how it all started, for me anyway.  110 film.  Anybody from latter 70's era, one hour photo and yes, double prints please, would know.  During my Mickey Mouse camera days the film roll lasted for months, then it took months to take it to be developed.  My aunt Jackie had it goin' on as she had a secret place she's send her film to (although probably a Vivitar or Canon, not Mickey Mouse).  I though that was awesome, although I didn't formalize it.

Tab return, backspace.  So SPF and I pleasantly banter and analyse the history of "how the bins have filled with multiples, mucho pix and miscellaneous nostalgia."  I have narrowed (sifted) our collection down to three plastic bins...one clear and two solid (labeled..."pix").  First off and easy for the recyle bin is the double prints.  My goodness!!  What was the forthinking back then as to why one would need two?  Two prints each...double prints.  Double trouble.  It will come back to haunt you some day.  Some day you will be in the garage sifting your photos and tossing half.  Back then, it was 12 or 36 count film, SPF and I conclude that we'll go with the averaage...lets say 24.  24 times two...yikes = 48.  Okay, so I won't throw alot of numbers at ya but you get the "picture." 

We'd go to the One hour photo for developing, a bit more pricey but well worth it.  (well, me anyway)...and I knew the owners on first name basis.  the wife loved the pix of my travels, my selfies (just kidding...we never did that back then), and my family stuff.  It seems that on average (not because of skill I say), that 4 of 24 (48...double prints)...turned out well...decent, great.  So I can do the math, but I refuse.  It was alot of moolah.  That's what I worked and lived for..."travel and double prints."  So glad to be in the digital age now, where 200 pix are not even blinkworthy.  I sit in garage and sort the bins now and then.  Looking and tossing the now and then...mostly "then,"  the double prints and tossing unflattering pix, unknown 10-20's of sunsests, and I won't even mention how I went to "tan" next door a few times.  I am perplexed now with current knowledge that I even did that...and I supposedly have..."olive skin."   I have pix of "Big Boned Gal concert in London, a Turkish Pension and poolside Cabo San Lucas"...thank you,  "Rabo" (royal almond body oil)...and  the double prints, thank you tanning God's and my other cousin Kelley. 

Chillaxing

Life in So Cal.  Central Coast but close enough.  Mild temps mostly.  "Degree window" small...maybe 10 or 15 variance utmost.  However, it's been cold lately.  Cold.  As in "weather" is the second topic of local news.  "Winter blast, arctic front and my favorite..."cold snap."  It's all true.  We've had the heater turned up and on and down at home.  Not used to moderating the modest home temps.  The weather outside isn't frightening, nor simply so delighting...just chilly...very chilly.  Dang Cold!!  I think it should snow at this point.  We kind of deserve that.  It does, however,  sort of "add to the ambiance" of hubby in the recliner watching the Ohio State game (18 degrees is says on smart phone) in Indianapolis.  Why they're playing there when the two teams are from Ohio and Michigan...I haven't a clue.  Football is confusing, but that's a whole 'nother blog. 

Whilst being positive (hands eminating the summer Sahara dryness, being a classic example of Raynauds finger and hands (me), and also sporting your average shivers), we decide to go for a "winter drive."  Growing up in San Diego (real SoCal), we'd "go" to the snow.  Winter at our leisure, sort of.  So Ohio native hubby and I discussed and selected a short hour jaunt toward Californias southern "grapevine."  Maybe five towns up and over near the mountains.

Scarf.   check.
Handwarmers from Camping town: check
Large bottle of Lotion "for extra dry skin": check
Emergency aluminum just in case you get stuck in cold blanket:  check
Water:  check

We are very prepared and "go" look for glimpses of snow.  Not totally committed to the "grapevine" as this is a "cold snap" and it can get treacherous on this fragment of I-5.  Windy, slidy, icy, "trucky" and maybe even snowy.  We'd enjoy short winter getaway and maybe take a few instafacetwitter pictures for fun.  We'd check out the lighting of the snow and walk around in the crunchy white stuff in what I consider, "winter shoes."  Hubby says no and that they aren't. 

Forty minutes into the drive we see some very gorgeous white hues on the side of the mountains.  Eeeee!!  I giggle-say.  Snow!!  I get pretty excited over foreign things.  "Wow...yay!!...how pretty!!"  We're gonna see snow!! (repeats).  Well, it turns out that after the turn, it was a false alarm.  It was the winter sun playing her lighting games against the side of the mountains.  Nonetheless, it was beautiful.  We head further to the southernmost point of the "grapevine."  Nada...just cold air.  So cold we have to check the temperature guage in truck (yes, we are still inside at this point).  Forty Six degress.  Well, we tried.  Wasn't ready to head north this time.  Had lunch with our scarfs on, did a little bargain browsing and went back our comfortable coastal denizen to watch the weather channel.  Nice day:)

Side note:  it's still cold here:)

Kiters Rock

Sometimes I just want to write.  I have so much to finely chop wordwise.  I talk about subjects often and wow, am so full of ideas.  I sit here on a Saturday, post sunset and have writers block.  I just thought that was a fun cliche'.  Writer's Block.  I have thought about writing about: TSA, fences, cat psyche, human psyche, dry hands, and yes...even the dang San Diego Chargers (don't go there).  My dry hands (of the west coast winds), type and off the cuff I go.  I wait to see what the mind/ digit connection will be.  I hope it's good.  Maybe I should put an episode of Andy Rooney on?  I did adore his style.  Did I mention that pepper jack cheese is great without the peppers?  Right on.  So it goes...I think that possibly tomorrow I will go the beach and fly a kite.  I have a few...a fish and a butterfly and a regular kite with a pencil and block on it.  The fish has a puffy mouth and is sort of 3D.  The butterfly is more 1D...flat winged.  Something about letting out the twine and watching it soar.  Something about hoping the winds are in your favor, be it insect, ocean creature or we.  The tug of the string, the sway of the flying object. Watching my husband run down the beach to catch loose kite (since I supposedly wasn't paying attention).  Take hold.  Sometimes one must chase after what got away....oops.  Hold tight.  Maybe the breeze will enable the writer's block to fly.  Write on!!

Doesn't Need Watering

Enjoy it!!  I run to the front door and am on the phone with hubby.  "Who are you talking to, Enjoy what?" he asks.  For some reason I felt a need to (But did not, I repeat, thanks to hubby's intervention) bid enjoyance for the new "fake plant" owner.  Yes, fake plant, artificial, plastic philodendron I believe, in a very nicely weaved earthy basket.  I picked it up at a thrift store several months ago for under $3.  I frequent these budgety shops and can probably tell you the price, which store, and weather of the day for each item.  No, I'm not a hoarder.  No, I don't like clutter.  I like the hunt, the deal, Neal.  So back to the aforementioned....I was about to tell happy lady who'd just acquired some faux greenery about the history of the plant. The top shelf I got it on...which store it came from...how it has only adorned our front porch for a few months... how I had wanted to warm up the space where it was...and well now that Christmas is coming and change is good, yadda, yadda, yadda and I needed to free up some space for the Seasonal décor.  But I didn't.  I refrained from the "good day, glad you found something cool, salutation."  Yes, I was going to say "Enjoy my plant."  Who does that?  Me.

She's Crafty And She's Just My Type

Okay, so I  own a glue gun.  I'm not sure what I've used it for really.  I'm trying to think back.  I do recall buying some glue sticks on occasion.  What did I make?  Or fix?  Did it involve sequins?  Tissue paper?  Dried flowers?  I'm still thinking.

See, the thing is, I don't consider myself "crafty."  I don't love "crafts."  I do, however love creating.  I do have a "craft" for writing (obviously, you are reading this)...:), a craft for painting, and such.  One's craft is their creations, right?  Furniture making is craft and so on (artisan, trade...) My mosaic piece isn't a "craft," it's a piece of art, practically a masterpiece.  My wall, fence and laundry room murals aren't crafty, are they?  I'm lucky that I have inherited the creative gene.  My DNA (does nice art) is a shining reflection of my ancestors...thank you to them  I'm also sure that if I tried I could probably play a musical instrument, as long as it wasn't crafty, and as long as I wanted to. 

I have also been guilty of having an inventory of "mod podge" and I am creating a large canvas with tchotchke's, travel paraphenelia, and yes, tissue paper.  This sort of appears to give me that crafty slant and to think even my husband now knows word mod podge.   I do not own any construction paper, scrapbooks, nor gliter glue.  I can crochet in a straight line (thank you Grandma Lola)...and once made a round thing.  At one time I knew how to macrame' as well.  I was great at "string art" in the late 70's.  I think I made an owl,  or was that my cousin Scott?  I am now decorating doll houses.  Decorating...I say, decorating!!

So there we are.  I'm trying to learn about myself and wonder why it feels odd when I get called the "c" word.  She's so "crafty."  I just smile and think about how lost I feel in Michael's.

So there we have it.  I still can't think of what I've used the glue gun for, I just can't throw it away.

Push Ups and Other Tidbits

"I'm your ice cream man, stop me when I'm passing by." Goodness, we live in the "zone,"  as in, the "ice cream truck" zone. 

Tacky pink vans with yellow tops.  Old stickers of faded fudge bars, big sticks, push ups, and sour jelly belly's decorate the menu on the side of the vehicles.

I'm doing well on my weight control.  This is not right.  Moving V-8's passing by but not selling V-8's.  My weakness is "crunchy"...and since my decent weight loss...chips, doritos...noisy foods are my indulgence.  I googley eyed hubby to hail down the  moving calorie mobile...he's busy. We regularly have an average of 3 sugar mobiles cruise by per weekend...and at least one a day weekdays.  Most times it's easy to mentally file and deny the risk of indulging the "drive by's"...after all...Christmas music, among other very random tunes in the summer...is well...funny.  Today we heard "Fur Elise, Jing Bells, Humpty Dumpty and La Cucaracha."  Some are tunes that one doesn't want to associate with home delivery delights. 

So this recent Sunday afternoon, I grab my cheetah wallet, hope for some Washington's in there...and dash to the curb.  I have three dollars.  Yay!!  One has to be nimble and fleet footed as sometimes the driver doesn't see your "stop here" gesture.  I inquire about the price of a small bag of Doritos and snicker ice cream bar.  Uh oh.  That's 3.50.  He breaks out the regular snickers and well, hubby doesn't want that...just a regular candy bar (although he's asleep on his recliner and doesn't know what's about to hit him)...it's Sunday...football day and post pneumonia stuff and the man works hard. I then revise the transaction and remember that hubby likes Neapolitan sandwich bars, perfect.  Three bucks.  With  a big smile, I return casually to the house with my treats.  I toss the chilly sandwich bar (why he likes those, I have no idea?) onto now awake hubby.  "Oh, cool!" he says.  I then go to the handicapped laptop, open my mini bag of Doritos (original) and watch my cat update his Facebook page.  Life is good.

Have A Seat

Our Garage.  Neat and fit.  Fit and neat.  We are the "keep up with the Jones' of Garage" organization (or at least I think we are).  We can fit our two full size truck and smaller SUV in there.  Pretty awesome, right?  Also, a treadmill, painting area, 'beach to go' wall, and garden accessories feng shui placed on some upper walls.  Some are even color coordinated to go with subject. I have been teased about this, although they thought it was a good idea.  We have two ladders (one useless, but it is aesthetically appealing as has a passport stamp from Italy).

We recently bought a camp chair with a sunshade.  It was then pointed out by hubby (who had purchased this beautiful canvas comfort) that we have 19 chairs in our garage, counting the "creeper."   The creeper can fold into a chair (it's a mechanic thing).  "Nineteen?!", I repeat.  Yes.

So...I look around.  Our garage looks uncluttered.  How is it possible to have such a vast about of seatage , such an inventory without looking that way?  We don't even know that many people.  I start to count the chairs, mess up a few times and start over.  No, I already counted those.  Okay...19.  Woah!

• 4 beach
• 3 camp  (regular)
• 1 camp  (with sunshade)
• 2 stadium
• 2 extra kitchen table
• 2 director's sturdy outdoor
• 2 extra dining room pub style
• 1 office  (for my painting)
• 1 Ikea stool (great find at thrift for tool time projects)
• 1 nicer stool (for person watching tool time projects)
• 1 creeper

Okay that's 20!  Holy Moly. We don't really even like sitting down, nor do we camp often, or creep. 

Gimme S'More

I've always loved the outdoors.  Ever since youth, fresh air, exploration and dining "al fresco" has been a preference.   We used to go to the beach during the summers.  My hip Uncle and Aunt would bring their van (with tv, fridge and surf gear).   We'd stay all day, without sunscreen I think.  I think my aunt would keep up on Y & R  during our sea breeze and sun sessions.  Great memories.  I was so glad to get a ride to the beach (and for the day) and even better, hanging out with them.

My grandparents used to take us camping.  I can assuredly say it was not "roughing it"...not even close.  We did have to bring bug spray though, for the occasional bachelor mosquito (it was San Diego)...and yes, we were spoiled.  We had a tent (a real canvas one that you have to put together), a picnic table or two, and yes, probably hot showers.  We went to Pio Pico Park and as a kid...I though this was the most awesome place.  Possibly a whole 45 minutes from where we lived.  It had a sweet little pond with swans and the whole bit.  The McGrandparents would bring a few of us cousins and boy did we have fun.  It was where I learned that the song "Afternoon delight" wasn't about a coffee break, stuff like that.  Stuff you can only learn by camping...hahahaha.  The older cousin's could influence us younger ones...yet...uh..I was one of the top 3 in age. 

Some other camping memories included an rv which remained in the family for decades.   It recently has went on to make more memories for new families.  This was fun too, and had a different "feel" than tent camping.  Drive up, camp.  It seemed though that it was a little unstable because it seemed to rock a lot.  As an adult and talking with other cousins and siblings...I've learned that it had nothing to do with the leveling of the camper nor that it wasn't Richter Rated.

Another  camping  venture was with my now husband, on a spontaneous San Diego Lake Mountain jaunt.  Sure, sounds like a good idea, I'll call them...reserve "wooden tent" and we can stop at Target on the way for any needed supplies.  We call, we reserve, we shop.  We buy an 8 D cell battery camping lantern bologna and some spirits.  The rest stop on the way was quite lovely, embarrassing but lovely.   Our "wooden" tent at the lake campground (hot showers)...etc...was nice.  Apparently it gets cold up in the mountains and this sea level raised girl and the foothills of Ohio counterpart found out the hard way.  It was May!!  How cold could it be?  We froze...in this rough campground one is supposed to bring their own bedding (i.e. sleeping bags)...and maybe a  yoga sleeping mat for the plywood bunk.  We arose very early as the cold kept us sort of alert and awake.  Went fishing that morning, had fun but did not catch any fish, probably 'cause I was grumpy and telling campmate that he was fishing wrong (due to frostbite and tossing and turning on the lack of "camp" comforts.  Footnote:  he's been fishing since he was a toddler. 

So with my whopping under 7 ish camping experiences..(didn't recount all) ...I now have the camping bug.  What?  We've "camp crashed" my cousin's sites twice. They tell us where they are camping, we show up!!  Good times!!  We live along PCH (Pacific Coast Highway) and I see these funmobiles everywhere.  My brother and my cousin have recent acquirements in the RV departments.  Theirs are top notch.  A/C, showers, stove, foot massagers, skype, popcorn makers, HDTV, coconut oil/ quisinart juicer and Windsor knot tier (for the mobile office). I also hear that one of them is getting a home gym, but whatever!!

I had my first s'more with my first "camping crash" this year.  I know...I'm mid to late 40's and well, yeah.  My cousin (and now I realize that those younger cousins can influence you too).  What?  You've never had a s'more? (hubby either).   I'd never realized that I/ we were unusual.  Apparently it's a given when one camps.  Holy yumminess and thank you K bunch and thank you dark chocolate!!  There is more to the story on how to roast a marshmellow...so many ways:)


 

Going My Way?

Went for a "destination bike ride" recently.  What is that, you ask?  If a place is too far to bike to, one throws the bikes in the truck and drives to biking location.  We opted for a paved path along one of our local beaches.  Beautiful, paved and flat.  It even features a yellow line down the middle.  Again, what's that for, you ask?  I think it's to keep the peddling traffic from doing a "destination hospital visit."  We stay on our side, you stay on yours.  We are in America, so it's easy peasy...stay on right...although the variations on handle bars, Nantucket beach baskets or lycra seem to effect some folks.  Sometimes it's the make and model of the bike, but I'm not going to discriminate.  One snippet went like this:  Two ladies coming on to me (not like that)...They were heading in our direction.  Okay...we've noted each other.  All good.  Hubby and I are riding single file, which is what I thought we were taught to do unless nobody was in sight.  Single file is a bit more challenging for conversational purposes, but it may be safer.  We are enjoying the positive ocean ions, the sea breezes and that we're exercising without feeling like we are.  Triple win.  So now out of the blue clear sky comes "Joe I gotta ride super fast in between the mellow, follow the rules, amateurs."
JIGRSF (Joe, I gotta ride super fast), does a quick inhale (I think to make himself slimmer) as he precariously shimmy's through us cyclists.  "New Rider!!", I say (although I'm not).  He didn't hear me as he had some JIGRSF  music ear plugs in...listening to maybe AC/ DC...maybe Pit Bull, maybe Susie Ormann's How To Be Financially Fit.  It didn't really matter as he didn't hear us.  Don't think he was concerned with all four of us wobbling and having to reset our beach mode speed.  We continued on our way staying to the right and only doing wheelies when nobody was around.

A Rose by any other name...

Today my husband and I were introduced as Bob and Tanya.  It's always nice to get an introduction.  It's polite, even makes things easier than a self intro at times.  Here's my mom...Shirley, my brother Ryan...etc.  Well, they were a bit off today.   My husband's name is Bill and I'm Tamra.  Have to say that amazingly, that was only the second time I've been a Tanya. I wasn't given the typical spelling of my name which would be the AAA version: Tamara (which means the Palm Tree I've googled).  I've been Tamara, Tamira, Pamela and once a Tabitha.  (Wiggles nose and casts spell).  Really got a kick out of today's misnomer (misnamer) as the introdrucer was quite the high brow of all doctors.  No, I wasn't there for a brow lift.  I hadn't actually heard the misintro as my hearing is slightly askew (another blog).  We walked out of the office afterward and my husband was cracking up.  "Bob and Tanya"!! he said.  Bob and Tanya! We won't even go into our historical surname pronunciation as today was only an informal meeting.

Okay, I will go into the surname thing a bit.  The very first time hubby took me out to dinner (and actually made reservations that is)...they called our names as Jerkbride.  Without helping out the identity thieves...let's just say that "jerk" isn't in our name jumble puzzle.  It was an Italian restaurant called Veni Vidi Vici...and the name was not something the maitre' d conquered.  It was very endearing though..."right this way Mr. Jerkbride."  No wine was needed to keep laughing through dinner.

Seems my brother Ryan has had a high percentage of name calling at the coffee houses he and his wife Eleanor frequent.  He/ they travel often and  they've recently noted that getting ones name correctly isn't prone to one particular time zone, zip code or the lower 48.  He has tried various strategies and sometimes ends up with good caffeine but a slight identity crisis. His idea to give the baristas something easier inscribe with a sharpee hasn't quite unfolded smoothly yet.  He's tried simple names such as Bob, Jake and recently Hulk.  Who hasn't heard of Hulk?  Maybe he should have just gone with Lou.  I know while we were living in Italy...the coffee line was pretty efficient.  No names required.  Pay, name your poison, pick up.  Café Machiato per favore'.  Whatever you do though, don't try to order a "regular coffee" in Italy....just say "café Americano"...again (that's another blog).

Have a great day!!  Tanya Out!!

Minimalistically Speaking...Meow!!

Zen music playing on the directv. tiny to some, 32' inch non HD nor 3D, tv   Hubby fortunately likes my boho-semi minimalist-non clutteresque-semi-modern-less is more home décor design.  We have prided ourselves in living with not so much "schtuff" and are constantly refining, donating, rehoming and repurposing items.  We make several trips to our local thrift stores...and say yes when the Rescue Mission calls.

Things have recently tilted a bit lately here at our home.  It seems that the feng shui aoleans have shifted. We have  a new loveable teen kitten in our lives.  Being new cat guardians, we've learned that we have a lot to learn.  We have doused him with several "safe spots," a cat tree, a hyacinth kitty condo and the like.  I'm by no means a snob, but I do like aesthetics.  No shaggy carpet pet items here.  So the challenge is to spoil him  (but also having him be respectful, thankful and good mannered) and to have it appear that this is a human home and not a feline rec. center. 

Mojo is a great cat and I'm sure I will be writing some kitty chronicles soon.  We've had him for a little over a month now...giving us time to savor his good manners.  He doesn't jump on our counters or table, he uses his scratch post and is a pretty good communicator.  "I'm hungry, pet me, play or hold me."  At 8 months old his AKSL is pretty advanced.  (American Kitty Sign Language).  Meow!! (yes, that was me replying to him as I type). 

We originally put well adaptable rescue kitty Mojo in our Beach (toned) Guest Room.  We don't have a large house...but it seemed better than the office.  The printer is always acting up without a cat living in there to boot.  Felt a bit "low" when mom visited from out of town the first week of Mojo's move in.  Mom was polite and slept in the office (it also sports a folding comfy pleather futon...with on top air mattress option).  I didn't feel comfortable having mom near a litter box nor a scratching pad.  Mojo, who doesn't watch tv much (besides The Voice and Golf)...got the tv..which is rarely turned on in guest room...well unless there is a human guest visiting.  Mom got a view of our, veggie  garden, container pansy vignette and trash/ recycle bins.  Mom seemed fine as we had steel cut oats and flax seed oil for her the next morning.  So as you can see we have been for lack of a better word "struggling" with making the home look less catified.  I have hidden the water bowl (one of 3) in a cubical in bookshelf, got the minimal minimalist of cat trees (if that is possible since it goes all the way to the ceiling), several cat mats (disguised at door mats)...we don't wipe our feet on those (4), lint roller cleverly placed in remote control basket...y mas.  It's a work in progress.  I just wish I hadn't seen Jackson Galaxy's suggestion of the "catio."!!!