So my husband and I went to the single most strange event in both of our lives – the Miss Oregon pageant. Oops, ‘scholarship competition’. Here’s the thing – I have this new (yes, much younger) friend in the picture above and she was competing, and that’s cool because let’s just say she does not wear makeup or jewelry in real life and is doing it for the money…not a bit of honey boo-boo in this young woman, so we went to support her. But y’all, I have never seen such a crazy event in my life, as they combined it with the Teen competition as well and, let’s just say there will be a separate blog post coming soon to talk about why I don’t think fifteen year old girls should be wearing six inch stilettos and winking at judges and required to – I shit you not – do a bouncy workout on stage. Going back to the women though, my friend is focused on really great things with youth and community through her nonprofit, The Better Me, but I must say what I like even more about her? She is not afraid to admit what she doesn’t know, and she is genuinely kind. She was also the only one to get us something off our registry when we announced we were matched with a birth mother (meanwhile one family member had the nerve to announce that they didn’t want to get us anything off of it and to please send them our private bank account information – via email! – instead because it would be easier for them than to just buy something online, two other family members never responded at all, and my brother? Oh well he spelled my name wrong – like, not a typo kind of wrong – after ignoring the message for 2 weeks. Fuck ’em.) and, even though she was open about not understanding anything about what we’d been through, didn’t say one insensitive thing. She’s a good person, and I know she will go far (see, there’s the big sister in me as she’s 20 years younger, haha) – with or without a tiara.
Three random pictures, right? Wrong. I’ve been spending some more time on genealogy (Dad would be proud!) and decided to copy paste the old census addresses listed for my grandmother and great-grandmother into Google Maps, and was kinda trippin’. The gas station on the left is the site where my great grandmother lived in 1932 in Iowa. The cute neighborhood house on the middle is the farmhouse my gram grew up in before WWII in Minnesota, and the final one that looks like a bar? The site where my great grandmother lived in 1940 in Iowa. Another interesting part of genealogy research 🙂
We’ve been installing some roller blinds in our house recently and were dumbstruck at how incredibly offensive the tags are on the ones we received (left image). I looked it up and the image on the right is one that can be used as well. For anyone who has lost a child, no matter how it happened, this is NOT the way to warn people. Can you imagine if you’d lost a child in this way and bought new blinds only to have this horrific image? What the living fuck. That being said, we’d gotten these from Wayfair, who we’ve since closed our account with as they literally DEFENDED their decision to sell products to the immigrant concentration camps on the border. [PS – While I’m usually not stoked to announce I have my business bank account through Bank of America (I’d love to have an account with a credit union who allows me to mobile deposit AND actually access my client’s payments in under a week, but none do), this week I was proud to because they ended their business relationship with those same child prisoners).
Weekdays off kinda rule. What better thing to do on a day off than to walk on the beach. Husband and I have agreed that since moving here almost a year ago we have not taken nearly enough advantage of the beach (ironic since that’s why we moved here…but that being said they allow cars on the beach from Gearhart to Astoria which to me is completely repulsive environmentally – not to mention dangerous and the opposite of ‘getting away from it all’), so we drove down to Nehalem for brekkie and then a bit further south to Twin Rocks, just south of Rockaway, where it was so chill. I went to outdoor school here a zillion years ago and remember next to nothing about it, but the last time I was here was a blissful one – walking the beach with my sweet Rottie girl, Daisy, who has been gone from this earth for seven years this summer. Loved that pup and glad our crazy girl Lucky is getting to walk that same beach.
Our little lovebug turns 13 in a few weeks and my honey caught her chilling in the backyard watching the world go by while I was out running errands. [Her ears are NOT cropped, the wind just has blown them back as she sits and watches bumblebees and birds and, of course, whatever the mister is up to]. She doesn’t have to be on her leash anymore to go potty (amen!) as she has established her three favorite places here on the farm: racing to the garden where there is duck-roca galore and where she knows she can race around to her heart’s content, the barn & woodshed where she can patrol and make sure it’s rodent-free, and of course the big pasture, where deer-roca is in abundance and she can stretch her legs out for the one or two hours a day she’s not napping. For those who’ve never owned pitbull terriers, here’s a great piece on their history and little known facts 🙂
And finally, I’m almost to the end of The Last Black Unicorn, the memoir-to-date of Tiffany Haddish which is both funny as hell and incredibly moving. She’s brilliant, she’s scrappy, she’s self-aware, and she’s seen it all – it’s a great read. And it’s making me think about fostering again but in a completely different way. I’ll write about that more later. In the meantime, check out this book y’all.