Bow Down to the Sausage

A week ago today my family gathered for the annual Sausage Fest, and the reason I haven't blogged before now is because 1) school is taking up way too much of my time, 2) I continue to hack up a lung every few minutes, and 3) I subsequently have no energy left for anything. With that said, to not post about Sausage Fest would be sacreligious being that for the last 25 years of my life my entire family has gathered together to partake in the festivities. For the last 3 years, Trevor has graciously joined us.



This year my sister, brother, their spouses, my niece, and our friends Scott, Margaret and their boys all drove down from Seattle to do the following:

1) Partake in the rousing carnival games, including but not limited to "The Duck Pond," "Scat Cat," "The Lollipop Tree," and "Shooting Hoops," as seen below. Please note both my niece's and my sister's natural shot, yet neither of them made a shot. I, however, the one with no athletic ability, did, and came home with a coupon for a free McDonald's ice cream cone. Ah, sweet victory!!!

2) We played bingo. None of us won but we sure enjoyed giggling when "O 69" was called...every time.

3) Of course, we ate sausages. Please look closely at the kids' drawings below. I believe they capture the essence of Sausage Fest.

4) We watched the fabulous entertainment. Our favorites every year are the dance teams. Adam and Austin were completely mesmerized.

5) And lastly, we celebrated our family's September birthdays with a DQ ice cream cake.

Until, next year, my dear sausage. We will meet again.

Meet Travis and Tara

You may think the picture below is of Trevor and Sara but you are mistaken.

Meet Travis and Tara, a happily married couple who spent the weekend in Matlock, WA at the beautiful wedding of our friends Nate and Maya. I swear to you we introduced ourselves as Trevor and Sara but nonetheless we became Travis and Tara. Instead of fighting it we embraced it. After all, apparently many of the wedding guests had changed their names at some point in their lives. Take for instance Lulu. She said to me, "Hi, I'm Lulu." I said, "Hi, I'm Sara." She said, "Nice to meet you Tara. Actually, my real name is Pat but I don't like it so I call myself Lulu." I didn't have the heart to tell her that my real name wasn't Tara and so my new alias began.

The wedding scene was absolutely stunning. Everything took place on Maya's mother's property. The weather was perfect and the colors of the surrounding gardens and forest were gorgeous.

Nate and Maya - who we hadn't seen since our visit with them this summer in St. John - got married under a pair of married trees (trees whose trunks are growing into each other). I, of course, cried and Trevor didn't. Imagine that.

The food was the BEST wedding food I have ever had. Everything was homemade, from the beef loin with a cabernet mushroom sauce to the salmon with lemon butter sauce, I am pretty sure I died and went to heaven.
And then there was the dessert buffet. Need I say anymore?

The evening sky was breathtaking...

...but not at breathtaking as my husband's belly painted with a face. If you must know why, I will tell you in private.
Congratulations, Nate and Maya! We love you!

Where to begin...

Well, here I am. I have been absent for quite some time now and I figured I should try and forge a comeback. The thing is, I really am not sure where I am supposed to begin. I feel like there is so much - yet so little - that I really want to say.

The truth is, life is good. The proof is in the pudding:

• We officially have a front yard AND a backyard with grass, and yes, this is an accomplishment.


• The basement floor has been painted and trim has been put up in one of the two rooms. Once again, yes, this is an accomplishment.


• Vacation has been taken, sun tans were made, food and drink was consumed, and fun was had.


• School has begun, yet it feels like it never really ended. Nonetheless, one week is down, only 41 more to go. The thing is, 41 weeks sounds wonderful. This new high school is unbelievable. The facility is gorgeous, the leadership is honest, the staff is positive, and the kids are ready to go.


• Family rocks. Our nephew Wyatt turned one last month and joyfully stuffed his face with cake. My brother and his wife are back in Seattle, hopefully for good this time. Our niece Ana started 1st grade on Wednesday and is beside herself with joy.


• Friends rock too. Bonita Flanagita and Adam bought a home and moved out of our commune. Alex quickly moved in. I swear to you, we really should win some award for helping the homeless. After much searching and planning, Melanikis and I currently own the exact same Chiawana High School wardrobe. Yes, we need to cut the chord.

Underneath all of this, the truth is, I am exhausted and stressed and seriously contemplating the possibility of assuming a new identity and disappearing into the great abyss.

One day at a time, Sara, one day at a time...

Cat Attack

Let me tell you a little story about a man who believes that cats and dogs should be submissive to human beings. This is a man who has rightfully earned the title of "Pack Leader" in our home and who clearly has much more authority over the animals who live in this home than I do. When Trevor says "no" to Powder, Moo, Norah, or Olive, they actually listen, which let's just say is a skill I am still working on.

But yesterday, after helping our friends move ALL DAY LONG, Trevor learned a very important lessons about cats who aren't ready to move and who certainly aren't going to let you make them ready to move.

Take a look at the proof:

Chippy Sky Cloud - our friends' lovely but socially disturbed cat -  let Trevor know last night who was boss. When he came running into the house with his hands cupped tightly to stop the blood from dripping, I thought for sure he had lost a finger to a saw. Luckily, after much dousing with hydrogen peroxide and rubbing alcohol, I was able to stop hyperventilating, then run to get the camera and snap a few priceless photos. 

Priceless, you ask? 

Yes, priceless, because my husband has never stopped giving my grief for letting our animals "walk all over me." Funny, funny.

Needless to say Chippy did not move last night. She stayed one more night in her very own castle while Trevor smothered Neosporin all over his many lacerations.

Final Score: Chippy 1, Trevor 0

Two weeks in paradise...

I have been thinking about writing this blog since we got back on Saturday. I am not entirely sure how to capture our trip to Puerto Rico, St. John, and St. Thomas in words and pictures, as I'm not quite sure either can do our trip justice. But I figure it's time I stop stalling and give this a go. 

Our adventure began at Isla Verde Beach, where we floated, paddled and swam for hours on end. I also screamed bloody murder when Trevor discovered a baby crab sitting in my hair. I was not happy. I am pretty sure, though, that Trevor could not have been more pleased.

We also enjoyed piraguas (a.k.a. snow cones). Let me just say that I consider myself an expert on snow cones and shaved ice, and there is truly no place on the planet that makes a snow cone like Puerto Rico does. The ice is shaved by hand and DRENCHED in the syrup of your choice. These really should win some worldwide culinary award.

We also visited El Morro, and old Spanish fortress that sits just outside of Old San Juan. Trevor sat on balls (because I made him), and I straddled a canon (because I wanted to), but because I write this blog, the only picture you will see is the one of Trevor sitting on balls.

I snapped this photo of my dad and Trevor at El Morro and I love it. It makes me happy.

Trevor found a girlfriend at our second hotel...Pica the big-ass bird. She was obsessed with him and followed him up and down the stairs and insisted on sitting on his arm. She wanted absolutely nothing to do with me. Isn't that how the other woman always acts?

We had a wonderful time spending our evenings with my family. Trevor met my grandmother, my aunt, and my cousins, and let me just say for the record that they were FASCINATED with my husband. Apparently a white boy who eats anything in front of him is enough to win over an entire Cuban brood. He is now affectionately known as "El Americano," and I am pretty sure Trevor has now helped to bridge the cultural gap for white people everywhere.

We then rode a ferry to St. John to visit friends of Trevor from college. The ferry ride was amazing and much needed after the 40-minute flight in a prop plane to St. Thomas almost had me puking my guts out.

While in St. John, this is what you can expect to see - 1) humping donkeys on the side of the road, 

2) spectacular views no matter where you go, 

and 3) turquoise beaches galore.

We went to St. John to visit Maya, one of Trevor's close friends from college. She took us snorkeling at several spectacular beaches and so we snorkeled for hours. We saw a stingray feeding (amazing but scary), a little crew of reef squid (I swear they stare at you), and an incredible array of fish that come in an incredible array of colors. Maya also fed us like kings and queens every night and never once poked fun of us for having to move to a hotel because we were dying without air conditioning. I love her.

Our last day in St. John we went sailing around the island with some friends of Maya. Now Trevor wants a sailboat (thank you Tony for already getting one). I must admit, though, that sailing is amazingly fun and relaxing, especially if you are the one who just has to sit there and enjoy the ride, which is exactly what I did.



We spent our last day of vacation in St. Thomas, at which point we were so exhausted we went to the beach and once again floated, paddled, and swam for hours, which is exactly how one should bid farewell to the Caribbean. Farewell, my Caribbean! Until next time ... and there will be a next time.

Bigger Bags

In three days we will board a plane headed for Puerto Rico and the Virgin Islands.

After checking out our "To get..." list, I am starting to think we need bigger bags.

I think I can fit in the goat and pig, but I am not so sure about the motorcycle and tractor.

Note to self - when creating a list of things to get before a 2-week vacation, make sure to tell the husband what the list is for.

A sign???

This is what happens when you hop in the shower for a quick rinse and your dog discovers your basal thermometer that fell under your bed just this very morning. I decided I had two choices: 

#1 - Kill the dog. 

#2 - Take a picture and write a post on my blog.

You can see which decision I made and I'm still not quite sure it was the right one. Okay, okay, I'm overreacting. After all, it's not the dog's fault that the thermometer was under the bed to begin with, and there is also the small little detail that I can always go buy a new thermometer while I'm pretty sure I can't go find a new Moo.

Still, I can't help but wonder whether or not this is some sort of sign that I'm supposed to stop trying to "bake a little bun in my little oven (yes, I chose the word "little" to make myself feel better). We've been trying for 11 months now - 11 MONTHS, PEOPLE, and if you can't tell, I'm about to freakin' LOSE it! I suppose that, yet again, there are really only two choices:

#1 - Close the "bakery" down.

#2 - Go purchase new "baking" utensils.

This analogy is getting out of hand...Fred Meyer's here I come.