8.31.2010

big sister photoshoot

My big sister is having a baby boy!  

My big sister, Liz, is a genius, and quite possibly the smartest person I know. She graduated as the valedictorian of her private college, has her Masters Degree in psychology, is gorgeous, and married a good looking teacher.  


 I think this means that my nephew will be incredibly smart, emotionally balanced, well behaved, an advanced learner, and the cutest kiddo on the planet. Lucky baby, he’s getting born into a pretty fabulous family. 


Timmy and I went to visit the proud parents-to-be on Sunday, and I took some cute cute pregnant pictures of my beautiful big sister (and her beautiful big belly!).  


We were shooting in the bright afternoon sun and I kept having to make Liz move so that I could catch the spot for the proper lighting. Eventually she got tired of this game, so I had Timmy test out the lighting for me…

 haha.

8.28.2010

our life in a nutshell: free time

If you were to peek into our lives, analyze how we spend our free time,
and make a pie chart of the results, it would look something like this:


After looking at how our life is divided,  
I would say that our priorities are mostly in the right place.
We go on adventures (big and small ones)
we dream exciting dreams (and make them come true)
we snuggle (a lot)
and our second favorite place to be is with family (and friends).


 Goals for the Future:
Move "watching movies" to the bottom of the list. 
Replace "eating out" with "cooking together". 
Boost "exercise" a little higher up.  

I love my life.

8.26.2010

a conversation: about falling asleep


Me: Babe, you have to just relax, and then you'll fall asleep.
Just try to think about nothing.

 
Timmy: I can't think about nothing.
 
Me: Then think about something soothing.
Like floating in a cloud of pink bubbles...

 
Timmy: I have been! I tried to focus on a little star in the center of my vision. 
But then I started to see solar flares.  
And then I was riding the star...

8.25.2010

Mystery Solved.

It was three days later that Mr. and Mrs. O’Brien invited a certain young man by the name of Caleb Jacobson over to dine at Twinflower Drive. (Caleb, you will recall, is the younger sister’s betrothed.) During dinner, the matter of the musical cup came up in conversation. At which, Caleb began to laugh uncontrollably and confessed that this object had, in fact, entered their home by his own hands. All was forgiven, as Caleb is a fine gentleman and dearly beloved by the O’Briens.
 
The next day, this letter from the younger sister (who was out of the country) arrived in the morning post: Darling Sister, I just read about your adventure, and laughed wildly. I was so baffled while reading it, racking my brain to think of something that could be making a musical noise, just thinking of the whole scenario. And you refusing to go to bed until it was found! I just hooted when I discovered it was the musical coffee mug Caleb and I found at Goodwill. If it makes you feel any better, sweet love, it went off while I was packing in my room, and it truly terrified me as well! But, it was much easier for us to solve, as it was only several feet away from me. Caleb has giggled himself sick over the entire manner. With love, your affectionate sister Rynn.
 
It must be said, that Becki raised her eyebrows at Rynn “hooting”. But you do understand that Rynn is of a much wilder nature, prone to excitement and dramatic expressions. (This is much to be expected, as she frequently travels to far away countries, like Japan, where she is currently staying.)

8.24.2010

the curious incident of the mysterious music

It was half past eight on a Sunday morning when, by chance, the two occupants of Twinflower Drive, were both situated in the kitchen area of the home. Mr. Tim O’Brien was at the sink, washing dishes, and Mrs. Becki O’Brien was capably constructing a picnic lunch of peanut butter sandwiches. Their conversation was light as they planned their day before them. It was a glorious day, bright with promise and expectation. 

It was as they were both fully absorbed in the particulars of their tasks that suddenly, a peculiar melody broke their silent companionship. It was curiously situated, and a strange tune that neither of them could claim recollection to. In an instant, Tim was on his hands and knees, searching the room for a clue as to where the noise was coming from. Becki darted to the dishwasher, for the sound seemed to echo from within. As they both reached the appliance, it had been a matter of no more than twenty seconds, the tune abruptly quavered and ended. 

“It is a curious thing, my husband” Becki cried, “for I have never heard such a tune before in my life, and I claim no ownership to an object that would make such a noise!” “Indeed” frowned Tim “I am truly baffled.” They waited some moments, hoping to hear the melody again, but there was nothing. Becki’s face was pale, as she does tend to always assume the worst. And it was with a truly serious countenance that she whispered, “Perhaps, my love, it is a bomb.” It is to Tim’s great credit that he did not laugh at this statement, but only pulled his dear wife into his arms and reassuringly stated, “Not a bomb, darling. Just a silly mechanical object. I dare say we will never hear it again.” And so they finished up their separate jobs, dressed themselves in fetching attire, and set off for a day of adventures.  
 
They did not return to the residence until half past nine that evening. Rosy cheeks and happy laughter greeted the front door as the two happily entered the dark house. You will understand then, why, as they walked across the stoop, Becki gasped in horror. For there, from within the inky blackness, an eerie melody was playing, the same curious tune that had perplexed them that morning. Its sound was alone in the empty house. 

Tim dashed into the kitchen, and threw open the dishwasher. But alas, the sound had moved, and it was no longer coming from this same place. Becki was paralyzed with terror, her face white and eyes bright. The last tone of the melody played, seeming to drag on for long moments in a trembling manner. And then the room echoed with complete silence. 

Much was said after that last note ended, and many speculations were made. “It was coming from the basement this time” said Tim, and “Perhaps it is an alarm clock, an old cell phone, a music box?” At the end of these thoughts all Becki could manage to respond was “Yes, my dear, perhaps it is music box. However, there is no logic to understanding the fact that the melody was not coming from the same place now as it was this morning. And music boxes do not move themselves.” To that there was no argument, for it is true that no inanimate object could move itself from one place to the next. And that, particularly, was what Becki found so chilling. Because nobody frequented this residence besides the two (for the younger sister was away). And so, they waited. Hoping to hear another strain. It may be said that Becki was both dramatic and resolute. The hour was late when Tim timidly suggested that they give up their fruitless watch and retire to bed. He was met with a fixed stare and declaration that nobody was sleeping until the mystery was solved. 

This brought on a renewed energy to Tim’s frantic searches. Meanwhile, Becki was lying on the floor, imagining all manner of horrific explanations to this conundrum. And to each fantastic idea she stated, he replied with something like this “But darling, why would someone who plans to murder us first dispatch an alarm to warn us of danger?” or “Yes, I suppose it could be an unnatural apparition, but why would a ghost or demon wish to frighten us?” or “Really dear, bombs don’t play music before going off.” 

Perhaps it was this sound reasoning that cleared her mind enough to truly think about the situation. It was then concluded that, if nobody else had been there to move the melodious object, it must have been unconsciously moved by themselves. As they listed every object they had touched that morning, it was realized that the object must have first been situated in or near the dishwasher and then moved to somewhere else within the kitchen. 

“A cup!” cried Becki. To which Tim replied, “But what cup makes music, my love? Surely none that we have in our possession.” And it was then that they noticed a mug that neither had taken note of before. It was covered in the gaudy pattern of a flag, and it was entirely new to their knowledge. “Have you seen this before” asked Tim. “No…” She mused. And then they both sprung toward the object. Tim shook it and slammed it against the counter with mad hilarity. Nothing. And their hopes were dashed once again. 

It was ten minutes later before Tim, in a final act of desperation (for Becki was threatening to demand a hotel room) gently lifted the mug once more. They were both immediately overcome with relief when that mysterious melody began to play from within the mug itself. It’s strains played through and then stopped once again. 

“Ah, a musical mug!” cried Becki. “Mystery solved” rejoiced Tim, “And now, to bed?” “Indeed,” she replied, “But you will first dispose of this object. I don’t want it in my house another moment.”  

And so he did.
 
And they both peaceably fell asleep until morning when, upon awakening, Becki wondered aloud, “But how, dear husband, did a musical mug of such offending looks come to be in our house in the first place?”  

And that was a mystery to them both. 

 

8.23.2010

When you're married to the cutest boy…
(for fourteen months and two days)


it is possible to pretend

 

that the Lake of Michigan


is the Pacific Ocean


and the sandy Bradford Beach of Milwaukee


is the gorgeous North Shore of Oahu.


And since it was possible to pretend such things…


We went to Hawaii yesterday.

This makes me oh, so very happy…


see my jumbled notebooks featured on the studio piluca blog?

*big happy smile* 

8.18.2010

pioneer princess

Sometimes when I say things like, "I'm going to go home and make a dress with my mom this weekend" to Timmy, I don't think he quite understands me. It's not that he doesn't believe I'm capable of making a dress, he just has a hard time with the concept of suddenly deciding to make a dress. And he has an even harder time picturing a home made dress that doesn't look like something a pioneer would wear. How do I know this? Because when I told him that I was going to make a dress he said, "Oh... just like the pioneers did." Yup. Almost.

My mom would have made a good pioneer, because she knows how to do everything. And when I said to her, "I want you to help me make a dress out of a tank top and some fabric" she came up with a plan of how we'd do it. 


 We actually ended up making two dresses. Version one was the easiest, as we just chopped the bodice off an existing dress (an old dress I had never really worn because it was too low cut), gathered, and re-attached the skirt portion to a new white tank top. I added some white lace along the bottom, just for prettiness. Half an hour later, I had a whole new dress to wear.

 Price: old dress - $0, white tank top - $5, waistband elastic, $1.25 = $6.25
 
Version two turned out to be my favorite. 


 A yard and one quarter of gorgeous fabric, wide waistband elastic, and a black tank top - all cut and sewn and pieced together to make a cute black dress. We cut the skirt material on an angle to give it a little flare - meaning it twirls out beautifully when I spin. My favorite kind of dress.

 Price: 1 1/4 fabric - $8, black tank top - $5, waistband elastic - $1.25 = $14.25

Timmy was impressed. He told me that he liked the black one best when I wore it Sunday, and he told me that he liked the white one best when I wore it Monday. (Even my daddy, who has become somewhat immune to girly projects over the years, seemed genuinely wowed by my dresses.)

And I feel like a pioneer princess whenever I wear them. There are some old dresses in my closet that are about to get a makeover! 

8.12.2010

an announcement.

 Apple Nutrition is changing its name. There. I said it.

(You should know that I am picturing you, dear reader, falling off your chair from shock right now. Maybe Timmy's drama is rubbing off on me...)

I could try to explain, but you wouldn't really be interested in the complex logistics of it all anyway. I mean, it's one of those long stories that nobody cares about except the people in them.

So our Apple Nutrition is becoming Apple Wellness.
Cute, huh?

I like it better. I love it. It's the business name I had been searching for my entire life. And I'm excited to switch out 'nutrition' for 'wellness'. We'll be keeping our cute apple logo and apple-y branding, so here's hoping it won't be too confusing for our customers.

Ok, I know it will be confusing. But nothing a quick explanation and a nice smile can't take care, right? Tim has a great smile.

I had always considered myself an expert namer. (Let's remember the genius name of Pinklepurr** for my cat.) But this entire experience has shaken my confidence in naming our future children. I don't think it would be quite as easy to change a baby name one month after it is born.

The moral of this story? Names are a big deal. Name things very carefully...

**Have I ever mentioned that the first time Timmy met my cat (before we were dating) and I told him that her name was Pinklepurr, Tim's exact words were: "Pinklepurr? If I were that cat I would KILL MYSELF!" This was after he had been chasing her around my apartment, trying to catch her in a butterfly net.

Check out our brand new Apple Welless blog! We'll be posting healthy recipes, nutritional facts, product reviews, and more! 

 

8.11.2010

(meet Pinklepurr's neice, Frodo)

I asked Timmy to take me to Pet Smart the other night. Because I wanted to look at the baby kitties. And I left wanting a small mouse, a chirping finch, a teeny blue fish, and a baby kitten. Timmy said no, and I tried my hardest to negotiate a deal. I said I'd forget about wanting a mouse, a finch, a fish, and a kitten if he would just let me have Pinklepurr back.

Pinklepurr's fur, Timmy says, makes him sneeze and wheeze.

In that case, I said, we could shave her.

Or make her live in the basement.

Or... or...

Or, Timmy says, we could just let her live happily at Mom and Dad's house.

If I agree to that, I said, then you owe me a Chipotle dinner.

And it was a deal.

Sorry Pinklepurr.

(But don't feel too sorry. I lived at Mom and Dad's house for 18+ years, and it's a pretty fabulous place to be.)

8.05.2010

vegan yum yum


I don't cook much. I can't blame this entirely on my hectic schedule. I lack culinary inspiration.

Last night was date night. Instead of going out to eat, I suddenly decided that it was very important for me to go and buy a cookbook. Tim said I was being dramatic, but I really did (do) think a new cookbook will "solve all our cooking problems!" (It's not too often that Tim gets a chance to call me dramatic, so I, of course had to tell him that he was being dramatic for calling me dramatic. And he (I) was.)

Barnes and Noble has a whole row of vegan/vegetarian cookbooks. And I chose Vegan Yum Yum. This was almost completely due to the fact that EVERY single recipe in this book has a picture. A color picture. It is a true fact that I rarely have the gumption to try a new recipe if there is no picture to accompany it. I like to know what I am getting myself into. And I'm a really visual person. The other thing Vegan Yum Yum had going for it was that all the recipes use fairly normal ingredients. If cooking involves a special trip to the store, I probably won't do it.

Now, before you start picturing me presenting Vegan Yum Yum to Timmy and begin to feel sorry for him, you should know that he is on board with the whole vegan thing. I'm totally not making him eat this way.

After giving Tim several delicious sounding (and looking!) dinner choices, he ended up deciding to try the Creamy Basil Tomato Pasta and Chickpea Artichoke Salad.

Well, Creamy Basil Tomato Pasta was a pretty fabulous success. Cashews are the secret vegan ingredient - they make fresh tomatoes and parsley into a creamy sauce! And let's face it, anything tastes good on whole wheat cavatappi noodles. Yum yum.

Chickpea Artichoke Salad tastes just like it sounds. Delicious. Roasted chickpeas and artichokes mixed with toasted almonds and lemon juice. Yum yum! Tim loved it. (Artichokes remind him of chicken, he says with a tear in his eye. Yup, he is totally on board with the whole vegan thing.)

 
And I can't decide what the funniest part of our date night was. Either A) When I accidentally dumped a can of chickpeas into the strainer, over Tim's head, covering him in chickpea juice (he was cleaning up the floor after I spilled water all over), or B) When I accidentally dumped a huge pile of black peppercorns onto a super hot burner, causing them to erupt into little piles of flames (I just stood there yelling "OH DEAR!" until Timmy saved the day). I'm dangerous in the kitchen.

And at the end of the ordeal, Timmy did all the dishes, wiped down all the counters, and said, "Babe, I just ate a completely vegan meal." To which I said, "Yes, and how do you feel about that?" He said, "I love it."

And by that, he meant, "I love you."

And I love him. (Don't let him fool you, he's doing this vegan thing for me.)


8.02.2010

A Wedding Invitation Suite for the Princess

With colors fit for royalty,


ornate filigree,


sweet old fashioned wording


and romantic touches…


A suite fit for a princess. 

More specifically, my pretty little princess with starry eyes. The princess who will be wearing her grandmother's wedding gown as she marries her true love under a tall sweeping oak tree. The princess who told me with great excitement "These invitations are exactly perfect."

(Oh, and just you wait until you see how this all goes together! Feathers, sealing wax, and beautiful slate grey envelopes will be involved…)

**dates, times, and directions have been changed