blergh

These were the results of me asking Mr G to help me and put away the bag of groceries I just picked up full of weekend essentials (while I quickly watered the plants, balanced the pool, and did a load of laundry):

 

Spread nicely all over the counter.

Thanks, doll.

(Don't judge my grocery bag contents.  It was the weekend.)

Love,

Granny

If you're gonna drop a shoe, make it a Louboutin

Mr. G and I often feel overwhelmed by what is going on in our lives.  We don't have enough money, we hate where we live, we don't know what we are doing, where we want to be and everything is chaotic and yet still boring.

Until recently.

Now it seems like life is going our way.  And we keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Two weeks ago, Mr. G got a great promotion.  His new title is impressive, as is his new paycheck.  And things are looking up for me at work as well.  We aren't rich, as we remind ourselves when we compare our household income to being equal to that of some of our single friends, but we are better off than we were just two weeks ago.  We probably still cannot take 2 or 3 vacations a year or buy designer anything, but I think we can pay our bills without stressing each month. 

We moved into a new house.  No, we are not buying because I still have a hard time seeing my self settle down for the long term here (that's another long, exciting, nail-biting blog coming your way in the near future) but the rent is fantastic, the house is charming, and we have water-front property, hardwood floors, an in-ground pool, and 3 bedrooms.  We even have flower gardens and a 2 car garage.  It is a huge improvement from the shitty ass condos we have always lived in.

We leave for France in one month.  That's right, the Goodwins are hitting up Paris.  Neither of us have been to Europe and we are thrilled for this opportunity.  I cannot wait to eat, drink, relax and explore.  

(But mostly eat and drink??)

We have both been in some sort of training mode for different events over the summer.  Mr. G did his first 50 mile bike event last weekend, and in three more weeks he is doing another.  I did a half in June, a 15K last weekend, and signed up yesterday for another half in less than 3 months.  We are also looking into the warrior dash in September.  

We are busy.  There are longer commutes, more hours at the office, longer runs after work, and yard work.  We still do not have any close friends in the area, but we have learned to have fun on our own, independently.  We have embraced quiet nights at home.  It can be a little daunting at times, but at the end of the day, we sit down together, in our lovely sun-ladden living room, and relax, lean in to each other, and appreciate all that we have right now.

Love,

Granny

You Prick

Raise your hand if your back looked like this yesterday.

Disclaimer: not my back, not my photo

Yesterday I foolishly subjected myself to go see an allergist.

I knew I was allergic to dogs, cats, horses, dander, mites, grass, pollen, trees, everything under the sun, but I was hoping that by seeing an allergist I would be provided some relief for said allergies.  I already know I get hives and breakout into crazy rashes when I am around dogs, cats, horses, dander, mites, grass, pollen, trees, everything under the sun.

I go to the appointment, subject myself to getting 30+ pricks/scratches on my back.  Totally enjoyable.

  Syke.  

and then I am told to wait 15 minutes to see if they swell up and turn to hives.

And not to scratch them.

It was hella fun.

Syke.

Turns out, SHOCKER, that I am allergic to, drumroll please, everything under the sun.

But instead of providing me with a solution to this problem that I was already quite aware of, I was told to avoid contact with the list of items I am allergic to.

Thanks for that.  Sweet life.

Happy humpday,

Granny

Mr. G's Natural State

This weekend we had the good fortune of participating in my dear friend's beautiful, elegant, perfect wedding.

Perfect for everyone but Mr. G that is.

This was a very formal wedding, and as I was the maid (matron?!) of honor, Gerren also had to look sharper than his carhart pants, buttweiser cut-off tshirt and sandals regular attire.

He was not thrilled about it, but we rented him a tux, got him a haircut, and off we went to the wedding.

I was in the limo on my way to the ceremony when I got a call from Mr. G saying he had forgotten his tie.  Panic ensued.  On top of that, he forgot dress socks, and his shoes were a full 2 inches too big.  He also got lost.  So by the time he made it to the wedding, he was a hot sweaty mess without a tie and his feet were BLEEDING from running around in dress shoes without socks trying to find the church.

Being the great wife that I am, I did finagle a black tie from my LIMO DRIVER for Mr. G to wear for the night.  But even with the tie, Mr. G looked a bit disheveled, miserable, and uncomfortable.

Cut to 3 hours later at the 5 course reception.  I walked in, gave my speech, and sat next to my man.  He had already lost the tie and the shoes.  He already seemed happier.

By 11 Mr. G was back in his natural state, with a comedic tshirt, neon accessories, and a smile on his face.

My man may not do formal wear well, but lord can he rock the shit out of a tuxedo tee.

Hope you all had a nice weekend,

Granny

Exhausted

This weekend we moved in to the new house.

No sleeping in, no rest for the weary. 

Just packing, moving, unpacking, cleaning, laundry, unpacking, organizing, cleaning, unpacking, laundry...

We still have a lot of work to do before it is photo worthy, but here is a quick shot of our huge, lovely, sunny, did I mention HUGE?, kitchen:

Also, can I lament for a moment about how it is already July??  That means our weekends are booked solid for five weeks in a row.  It means Allison comes home.  It means I can relax by my new pool.  It means my next round of half training starts, a 10K in 2 weeks, farmers markets are in full swing, wedding season is over after this week for the Goodwins, and our house needs to be in tip-top shape for our party in 3 weeks.

Saying I am slightly overwhelmed is an understatement; it is not yet 9 am and I have heartburn.

Thank you, Mr. G for parking in a way that trapped me between
Sam the Silvarado and this bug filled bush.

Love, peace, and Happy (almost) 4th,

Granny

Great Beard of Zeus

Many of my favorite bloggers do weekend recaps on Monday mornings, filled with pictures and great stories of what they did with their two days off.

I have rarely done this because as you are about to see, I lead a boring life, and my weekends are no different.

But here is what happened with the Goodwins this weekend.

On Friday night I had to beg my husband to take me to ice cream.  Beg because he hates ice cream.  Doesn't see the point of leaving the couch for the sweet little cone of joy.  I finally got him to agree to come with me, but he wouldn't drive and refused to put on a shirt or shoes because he was just going to wait for me in the car while I got my black raspberry soft serve with chocolate sprinkles.

Fun date, huh?

 

 Saturday there was a run, some errands, lots of packing up the condo.  Then we grabbed our to-go cocktails and hit up the movies.  While Seeking a Friend for the End of the World was not great, I definitely sobbed for the last 10 minutes of the movie and had to wait for all other movie guests to leave before I stood up.  I was stomach-heaving, ugly girl sobbing folks.

But then we went and got friend shrimp and clams and cocktails, and all was right with the world again.

Sunday was moving day.  We loaded up the truck and off we went to the new homestead.  We are 80% moved in to the new house.  Next week we will move the last bit and actually unpack.  House tour and details to come later this week.

 

It was hot, the sun was shining, I was tired from moving, and we have a little beach in our backyard, so after unloading and unpacking a grand total of one bag (over achiever, I know), I promptly did what any smart woman would do and I spent the next two hours sitting in the sun and splashing in the river behind our house.

Hope you all had beautiful, relaxing, productive weekends as well!

Love,

Granny

Daisy

With just two weeks left in our condo, on Saturday night I got to experience something I hoped to never experience; I watched a mouse scamper across our kitchen floor.

I obviously proceeded to yell "MOUSE! MOUSE! MOUSE! MOUSE!" to all of our house guests and Mr. G, who promptly ran in to the kitchen with a pot and spatula to catch the little critter.  

I was a little freaked out (who wants a dirty outdoor varmint in their OCD clean kitchen?!) but after about 20 hours I had gotten used to the idea of this cute little (and lord was she the littlest mouse I have ever seen) mouse living with us for our last two weeks in the condo.  As long as she didn't scamper out across my feet or move up into our bedroom with us, I was ok with this.

Except yesterday morning, I woke up and came downstairs to find a huge mess that Daisy (obviously our new house mate needed a name) left on my counter--she started nesting.  Oh lord, I thought.  Then I screeched up to Mr. G "GET DOWN HERE, DAISY MADE A FUCKING MESS!  HELP!"  I am very sane and practical in the early morning hours, don't you agree?  I told Mr. G to get a mousetrap and we would have to get rid of our new guest because we couldn't have her making a mess or having baby Daisys, etc.  But I asked if he could get a humane mouse trap because murder is just so cold hearted.  He said no.  I nearly cried.

We cleaned up the remnants of Daisy's nest and went off to work, making sure that the counters were spotless and no food was left out.  No sign of Daisy when we got home from work or while we were making dinner.  "Maybe we don't need to kill Daisy?  She seems to be staying hidden and she isn't bothering us, so maybe we don't have to kill her?!" I pleaded with Mr. G.  He said he forgot the mouse trap anyway, so she got to live for one more day.  I again asked for a humane mouse trap, he again said no, I again said, "let's let her be, she is fine, she is not hurting anyone."

Except that this morning, I came down to make my tea, which I always put out in my mug the night before, so I have to do as little in the morning as possible (I am lazy like that), and that little cute varmint bitch had gotten IN MY MUG and took my tea bag.  I found it half way across the kitchen with holes all over it, a trail of tea leaves and mouse poop.  What the living hell?  Today I calmly cleaned up Daisy's mess, washed my mug furiously with soap and water (I don't want no rodent diseases) and did not yell up to Mr. G (he specifically told me if Daisy made an appearance to take care of it myself like the adult that I am.  Humph.)

I went upstairs and told Mr. G to go ahead and get the mouse trap.

I already had a little cry about it on my way to work, though.

Love,

Granny