But we did do a little friendly family wagering on the Kentucky Derby last weekend.  We put all the horses' names into a hat (OK, a bowl) and each drew two names.

We put in I think $5 per person per horse?  Yes, that adds up.

Anyway, then we watched the race.  We had paused it whilst we finished up our horse-picking.  I may or may not have made the mistake of picking up my phone just as we were about to watch the race.  I may or may not have seen, courtesy of the NBC News push notifications that I may or may not have authorized, that Orb was the winner.

None of us had drawn Orb.  (There were seven of us.  We each drew 2 horses.  That's 14.  19 ran the race.)

We had agreed that if no one had drawn the winning horse, we would observe a second place winner.

The second place finisher was Golden Soul.

And the rest, they say, is history.

But, for the record, I am not *really* teaching my three year old son to gamble on horse races.

Durel is.

Hope you have a buck to pass today.

Talk soon,
Heather

thanks, costco, for reminding me how old my baby is getting

Jack used to love the pizza at Costco.  (Flashback) case in point:

Remember the time he ate two pieces?  I do.

He now prefers the hot dogs.  FYI.

Yes, he ate an entire one pound Costco hot dog.  Don't judge.

And if you are at the South Costco, I recommend the potty in the tire section.

Jack recommends taking a break to count the tires after your break for the potty.

We grow, we change, we count things.

Hope you have a surprisingly cheap meal today.

Talk soon,
Heather

an ode to the Davies

My family rocks.  That is the truth.

We are pale Irish folk who love potatoes and wine and do not tend to excel at sports.

We are well-read, stubborn, interesting, and interested.

We like music.  We like board games.  We like wine.  (It bears repeating.)

We like Christmas.  We never give useful gifts.  We give cool gifts, like Rosie the Riveter bobble heads and mythology books and Wonder Woman mugs and black and white photos of the Brooklyn Bridge.

We drink too much coffee.

We stay up late and hate getting up in the morning.  

We all, and this is really something, if you think about it, CREATE something.

Cristy embroiders like sarcastic wildfire.

Dagwood papier maches like only Melvix can.

Lisa forges handmade glass beads and creates jewelry with them.

Lindy builds stuff.  Like, all the time.  

Eli write computer programs.  

Francie writes poetry and dances ballet.

James is an awesome photographer.  And also has a really, like totally popular podcast.

Jenny, well, she is an Artist.  There is nothing she can't do.

Durel was a mixologist before the advent of hipsterism.  He also tends to win things like Rib-Offs with aplomb, after making his barbecue sauce from scratch and being all nonchalant about it.

I write.  Two blogs in theory.  One blog in reality.  But great things are brewing, FYI.

We live all over the country and don't see one another nearly enough.  But we were all together last week to celebrate Mom and Dad for their remarkable 50 years of marriage.  And when we did that, we all realized how much we like one another, which is nice.  And how grateful we are to our amazing parents for teaching us to be who we are and who we want to be. As a parent, I now realize how selfless, expensive, and just plain HARD that is.

And as they watched us gire and gimble in Austin, all together for a brief and giddy moment, they were happy.

Hope you know a Davies.

Talk soon,
Heather

the patience of a saint named uncle james

For a place that is perpetually in a drought, Austin has a lot of fountains.

Don't get me wrong, I love fountains.

So does every three year old on the planet.

The other evening, Aunt Jenny, Uncle James, Jack, and I were walking to the restaurant where we met Grammy and Pop for dinner.  

(For locals, we tried to go to Buenos Aires in the Hill Country Galleria.  It's amaze.  However, the rest of the world has discovered that it's amaze, and they told us we would have to wait an hour.  Which, in toddler speak, is a big HELL NO.  So, we ended up at Cafe Blue, which I am meh about.)

It was a lovely evening, so we walked.  The shortest path from Point A to Point B involved passing enticing fountains.  

I held Jack on the edge for a while so that he could splash without falling in.  (Mother of the Year, right here.)  However, he wasn't done.  The water was still flowing, and Jack wanted to be there.

Enter, Uncle James.  He's a patient, patient man.

Jack flailed a bit.  He wanted to Be One with the water.  James was unsure of exactly how to do that -- in a parent approved way.

Rest assured, he figured it out.  He ran Jack up and down the row of fountains, which made everyone giggle or squeal or smile with glee.

So clearly, this is the conclusion:

We ate, we drank, we made merry.  We ran up and down the row of fountains.  We splashed, we smiled, we lived in the moment.

Hope you get a decent splash in today.

Talk soon,
Heather

wearing my heart on my wrist

Aunt Jenny and I took Jack to the playground the other weekend.  

(This is the first in a long line of posts where I catch you up on ALLTHEFUNSTUFFLIKEWOAH that we've been doing.  This is me starting at the beginning, which is a very good place to start.)

We went to Central Market.  It's one of our favorite places.  We were there before the mad crowds on a lovely Sunday morning.  Jenny and I got coffee.  Jack got a smoothie.  Some pastries were eaten.  (Apple scone blew my mind a little bit.)

Jack keenly spied another kiddo with a balloon, and immediately and irrevocably decided that he needed one.  I totally get that.  So does Aunt Jenny.  So, off we went.

We found the Balloon Lady and she was happy to give Jack a green balloon.  He wanted yellow, but they only had purple and green to choose from.  On a lesser day, this could have caused a serious meltdown.  On the great day that was this day, Jack happily chose green and we went on our way.

Three minutes later, the green balloon was bobbing in the rafters of the store.

We went back to the Balloon Lady and she was happy to give Jack another green balloon.  He had forgotten all about wanting a yellow balloon, thank goodness.  He now just wanted ANOTHER BALLOON to replace the First Green Balloon that had surely been the Best Balloon Ever.

So, we got another one.  And Jack was happy.

Jenny and I were happy, too, because this one had a slip knot in the ribbon, so we could secure it on Jack's wrist.

We went back to the playground, because we had lots of errands to run that day and weren't quite ready to start being all efficient yet.  More playing was in order.

Jack:  "Mama, can you hold my balloon?"

Me:  "Uh...sure, buddy.  Here, give it to me."  

I removed the balloon from Jack's wrist and put it onto my wrist.  He ran off to play.  I kept drinking my coffee, and turned to Jenny for some more playground sister talk.

She smiled at me.

Jenny:  "You are a good mom."

Me:  "Aw.  Thanks!  That's sweet of you to say."

Jenny:  "No, I mean it.  And, it's so clear how much you enjoy it."

Me:  [melted from truth bomb and love of son and sister]

Hope you have an apple scone, a balloon, and an awesome family today.  

Talk soon,

Heather