Little Baby's All Growed Up

Just as I get done convincing myself that single gray hair was actually a natural highlight and the lines forming on my forehead are just shadows caused by sub-optimal bathroom lighting, a neighbor calls to ask if James and I will be her kids' "emergency contact people." Which means that if her kids are home alone and there is, say, a natural disaster or a scary stranger lurking about or a swallowed Monopoly piece they will, in her words, "run to you for help." At first I was flattered. I thought, hey, this lady trusts me with her kids! She thinks I'm a responsible adult! That can't be bad, right? But then I thought back to my own childhood and my own emergency contact person. Three words: FRUMPY. OLD. LADY. Grownupness isn't all it's cracked up to be.

Dear dishwasher...

Next time you're feeling disgruntled, please just let me know instead of dramatically spewing soapy water all over the kitchen floor. I'm not sure if something's gotten your hoses in a kink or if you're simply having a bad day, but if this behavior continues, I will have no choice but to force you into early retirement and hire a shiny new replacement.

In other news, at the risk of jinxing myself, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that I think the long, dark, rainy winter might actually be on its way out. For the first time in months, I drove my Vespa to work today under a clear blue sky wearing only a light jacket with no puffy insulating layers underneath. Is it possible that spring really is springing?? Forget knocking on wood...I'm throwing myself on top of my particle board desk. Immediately.

Road Tripping

Last weekend, James and I and our friends Jeremy and Virginia all piled into our brand new car (yes, the Element finally arrived!!) and headed up to Mt. Washington for a fun-filled weekend of snow sports. It was our first test of what we have determined to be the best road trip car ever, and boy were we right! We stuffed the Element to the gills with snowboards, skis, snowshoes, clothes, games, snacks, beer, and more beer. And there was still plenty of room for four psuedo-adults. And when we tracked snow and mud into every corner of the car, no one batted an eye, because we knew clean-up would be as easy as rinsing our all-season floor mats and tossing them back into the E. We are most definitely in love. Swoon!!!

The weekend was beautiful -- sun, powder, all night dance party (you'll have to ask Jer about that one!) -- and it went off without a hitch, except maybe for some mysterious food poisoning that reared its ugly head after we got home on Sunday night. But no matter. It was worth it. My only regret (aside from eating questionable sushi) is that we forgot to charge our camera battery before leaving home, so I only had enough power to snap one measly photo of the whole weekend. So, without further ado, I present James driving the Element as we headed out of town and up the island to the mountain.


Jer and Vir took more pictures, and if they ever post them on Facebook (hint, hint), I will link to them so you can see just how much fun we had all weekend. Until then, you'll have to use your imagination. Oh, and if you're looking for a place to stay near Mt. Washington, we highly recommend the Forbidden Plateau B&B in Courtenay, BC. Besides preparing incredible homecooked breakfasts, the owners Kim and Lorne were wonderful hosts and made us feel more like friends in their home than paying guests. They hooked us up with snowshoes, gave us all manner of directions, and even accomodated our special dietary preferences on very short notice. And when you stay with them, make sure you ask to feed the chickens and gather the freshly laid eggs. They won't even make fun of you for being a city slicker...at least not until after you check out!