Sorry for disappearing. There are some changes a-brewin’ in my little corner of the blogosphere, so stay tuned for that.
Plus, Camp Noa was a little busy hosting my brother and his adorable girlfriend for a few days. Some of the best days since we’ve been in Virginia, actually. We made quite a fabulous foursome.
We figured the best way to celebrate the freedoms and independence of these United States of America was to gorge ourselves on frozen yogurt, pear cider (ahem, …

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I’m going to do you a solid here and share a few tips and tricks I’ve learned from moving 11 times in 9 years. Use them if you dare, or follow my #1 piece of advice to NEVER, EVER MOVE. Not from your parents’ house, not from your 10×10 college dorm room, not from living next door to that guy you saw on “To Catch a Predator.” Just be happy to have the sum of your life’s possessions safely scattered about your …

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I don’t know if there is a better place to people watch than the outdoor deck of Hooters during the night hours of Norfolk’s Harborfest. From the blinding white scrunched tube socks/high top sneaker combo bopping through the restaurant (which is what Clayton swore he was looking at when he was swivel-heading it between chicken wings) to the boatmen and women who’d docked for the night and were seriously jamming out to The Macarena–because Norfolk is nothing if not cutting …

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Ok, maybe he is, maybe he isn’t. But, just like his career and marriage, Nick Lachey did freeze my computer. And after all these years of being Team Nick, envisioning myself as the Doritos girl in that video and not mocking the full on winter white ribbed turtleneck. The nerve.

Per usual, cleaning out the office became 7 hours of sitting Indian style on the floor looking through photo albums, reading through diaries from the most dramatic four years of high …

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Clayton and I spent Memorial Day weekend acting brilliantly normal and pretending like we had friends after we got invited to/stood close enough to people talking about a barbecue.
I was so excited to actually spend time with people other than my husband and dog (love you boys!) I laid my clothes out 16 hours in advance and planned Sunday down to the second in schoolgirlish anticipation. It was sweetly frightening, even to me, and had anyone remotely connected to this …

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I’m running again. And on one hand, it’s a good thing, preventing heart disease, balancing hormones, yada yada yada. On the other hand, I’m pretty competitive. Usually, that cold blooded drive to stomp other competitors to the ground leads to positive achievements, like being Valedictorian and having the highest free throw percentage on a district championship basketball team. (If you didn’t notice, those are also accomplishments very unlikely to appear in casual conversation once you turn old enough to vote. …

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Long story short: we had a May trip to Florida planned months ago. At the last minute, I got creative, turned the whole trip on its head, gave it a good shove and still managed to avoid stepping on an airplane.  
I don’t want to bore/nauseate/confuse you to tears with the details of my itinerary. Mainly because I’m still not exactly sure what they were myself; I just sort of got in my car every five days and hoped it knew …

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I only agreed because I didn’t think we’d be allowed to proceed. But oh, did that desk clerk at Sandy Bottom Nature Park throw me for a loop with her “sure you can take pets on the boats!” I faked a pleasant reaction and paid the woman.
My husband likes to think that we can read each other’s minds. I mean, I’m pretty dead-on when I do it, but him? Lacking. So, while I was in charge of compiling research and …

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I love surprises. Always have. In fact, much of my marriage has been explaining in painful detail to my husband exactly how I’d like him to surprise for me birthdays, anniversaries, Christmas, and on and on and on. He loves has grown to tolerate it.
Virginia is finally Spring-ing. Every few days, it will still drop to the 50s, but for the most part, we’re all sprung. Right on into a blooming, blossoming springtime. And here are some of the fun …

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I can remember wondering throughout most of my life what actually constitutes being “lazy.” For example, is it acceptable to lounge around for two days and watch an entire season of Friday Night Lights in 20 hours while neglecting exercise (my own and my canine’s—why does that sound sexual? OMG I need to run.), anything that could be mistaken as real food and all phone calls IF those two days are Saturday and Sunday? What about, thoroughly hypothetical, on a …

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