Life in the Slow Lane

The Cataluna House, where SOS and I have honeymooned since our return to the mainland from Catalina, has a back lawn. This lawn, at its widest point, is approximately twice the width of our lawn mower. On the other side of our back fence is a golf course which stretches for acres. The first Saturday that I pulled out the mower to make two back and forth passes over the lawn, I fantasized about picking up the green postage stamp masquerading as a back yard, and throw it over the fence so the custodial staff at the golf course would cut it as they dreamily drove on their riding mowers. Surely they wouldn't even notice such a small addition, and I'd pull the lawn back over to my side of the fence before they even woke up. But in Southern California, a patch of green grass, no matter how small, is a precious priority, and so SOS and I have carefully mowed, and weeded, and watered... anticipating that day when we are told to move out and must leave a showplace of Southern Californ...

I'm spoiled. I haven't had to pay to do my laundry since I graduated from college. (Actually, chances are I didn't do laundry for at least two weeks before I graduated. You know, finals... papers... social obligations...) Even for the first three weeks of married life, when, for the first time in five years I didn't have a washer and dryer down the hall, I got to do my laundry for free thanks to two hospitable friends. And if it weren't for the fact that my dear SOS has a uniform for work and it gets smellier than... well, it gets smelly... I think I might still have avoided a trip to the dreaded laundromat. I mean, one of the first things I demanded of my husband was that he buy more underwear. He didn't even have enough to put off doing laundry for more than a week and a half! (And believe me, I didn't want to suggest the eco-friendly option suggested here .) Not to mention, poor dear, that as soon as we were married I became obsessive about collecting...

Oh, and yes, we did get married. For anyone who hasn't seen the collection of photos yet, there are hundreds over on our facebook pages.

A visitor who very much wished it was breakfast for three.

This was our view the next morning: breakfast for two on a private balcony overlooking the harbor.

My post count has been way down in recent months. I thought since pictures are worth a thousand words, if I stuck a few photos in here, I might almost get back to where I should be. This is the view from our doorway at dusk one of the evenings we were on Catalina.

Today I completed three years at my place of employment. In those same three years many of my peers (and parents, congratulations, Dad!) have worked on adding letters behind their name. All my letters end with my name... I average maybe 125 letters a month. That amounts to 4500 letters. Just some random trivia for my readers.