Baby Bump in all its glory...

This is for my lovely friends out of state who want to see my baby bump :) I'm 24 weeks along now (which is 5 full months, starting my 6th...) and I feel like a million bucks!! I'm hungry. I'm gonna go eat an apple!

Ninja baby!!

I swear, sometimes it feels like I have a ninja inside of me!!!

The Road Less Traveled

"Two roads diverged in a wood
And I took the one less traveled by
And that has made all the difference."
~Robert Frost

Today was an amazing spring day, so Jon and I partook in my favorite Sunday afternoon pasttime. We took a long, intimate walk along Minnehaha Creek taking in the sun and the smells. The breeze carried the scent of the water, the earth, the promise of green things to come. But most was still brown and recovering from the long, rollar-coaster winter. Not even the grass had persisted through the decomposing layer of leftover autumn leaves. The path split and we walked along the dirt path with our fingers laced. And suddenly we came upon a lush patch of little blue flowers. Its lively contrast to the drab landscape took us both by surprise. It was just the spark we we needed to know that change was just around the corner. Isn't that always the case? When we find ourselves on the dirt paths of our lives, God brings us a joyous splash of life and promise that we need to continue and persist. That makes all the difference.

Beethoven's Ninth...a classy joke!

I guffawed when Jon read this to me...hope you get a chuckle out of it, too!!

A number of years ago, the Seattle Symphony was doing
Beethoven's Ninth under the baton of Milton Katims.

At this point, you must understand two things:

  1. There's a long segment in this symphony where
the bass violins don't have a thing to do. Not a
single note for page after page.
  2. There used to be a tavern called Dez's 400,
right across the street from the Seattle Opera House,
rather favored by local musicians.

It had been decided that during this performance,
after the bass players had played their parts in the
opening of the Ninth, they were to quietly lay down
their instruments and leave the stage rather than sit
on their stools looking and feeling dumb for twenty
minutes.

Once they got backstage, someone suggested that they
trot across the street and quaff a few brews. After
they had downed the first couple rounds, one said,
"Shouldn't we be getting back? It'd be awfully
embarrassing if we were late."

Another, presumably the one who suggested this
excursion in the first place, replied, "Oh, I
anticipated we could use a little more time, so I tied
a string around the last pages of the conductor's
score. When he gets down to there, Milton's going to
have to slow the tempo way down while he waves the
baton with one hand and fumbles with the string with
the other."

So they had another round and finally returned to the
Opera House, a little tipsy by now. However, as they
came back on stage, one look at their conductor's face
told them they were in serious trouble. Katims was
furious! And why not? After all...

It was the bottom of the Ninth, the score was tied,
and the basses were loaded.