This weekend Josh organized a day of berry picking for us. We headed out to nearby-ish Underwood Farms and had ourselves a hell of a day.

This is what greeted us as we entered the grounds. Apparently goats have flawless balance and can wander from pen to pen along narrow planks high above us. Some small and damaged part of me wanted to see one stumble.
They wouldn't let us into the pony ride pen with Dash and he was pissed. He continued to make that face for the duration of the ride.
There was a giant green tractor. Probably could've gone home after that and he would have been perfectly content. (Josh's face in this pic looks hilariously insane to me. Every time I look at him I laugh.)
We fed carrots to a miniature donkey named Antonio and a miniature horse named Honcho. They both had effed up teeth and Dash was a little worried about putting carrots directly into their mouths, so he went for the feeding tube option.
He was super-excited to ride the train and waited patiently for his turn. As he was about to take his seat this little asshole jumped into his car. The asshole's mother insisted that they could ride together. Dash wasn't really into it. I don't blame him.
So we let him go again. By himself.
It was much better.

Why do all dudes sit like this? Is it a genetic imperative?
Finally it was time to pick some berries!
I totally get why raspberries are so expensive. They grow on thorny little vines that stick and cut, and they're so delicate that every second one disintegrates in your hand.

Dash picked two strawberries, ate one...

tossed the other...

and declared the day over.

I had plans to make jam from our haul, but I can buy organic reduced sugar jam fairly cheaply and not have to clean boiled sugar and strawberry goo off of my counters. So we just ate these.

Dash is currently enrolled at his third school. The last one only lasted about a month. I didn't mention it here because, well, three schools in a year and a half seems a little unreasonable. But after about a week or so at school number two Dash arrived home with finger guns blazing and threats of, "I shoot Mommy, I kill Mommy." Well. Turns out that Dash befriended the kid whose gang-banging dad was serving time in State Prison to be followed immediately by 10 more years in Federal Prison. His mom thought it was all kinda funny. I was less amused.

So we moved him. We moved him to an adorable place with huge, green grounds. The teachers there are all over 40 and have made their careers the care of children. We've been there about a month and are deliriously happy.

On Friday the school had a pre-4th of July potluck bbq. We brought mini-cupcakes with red white & blue sprinkles (yum) and homemade potato salad (yuck, and also a pain in the ass to make. grr.)

At the party we befriended another couple with a beautiful daughter Dash's age. They were lovely and we're so hopeful that they'll become friends. The father is a professional photographer. Now, we really, really like this couple. We're absolutely not in it for the pictures. But seriously. Take a look at these. Just a few snaps he took at the party, no big deal. I'm a little embarrassed to post any more of my own pictures here ever again.

I like houses. I like bird houses and drawings of houses and doll houses. I like the house we live in and I like seeing other people's houses. Sometimes if Josh & I are driving down a quiet street and someone's left their blinds open I make him stop and back up so I can peep inside. Wow, that's kinda scary when you see it written down.

Anyway, here's our birdhouse in the backyard. I love that the "hamburger" is bigger than the chair.

Here is the best thing to eat this summer:

Prepare one cup of couscous (I did 1/2 wheat & 1/2 white).

Mix the juice of 4 limes, 5 tablespoons olive oil, 1/2 teaspoon cumin, 2 tablespoons red wine vinegar and a pinch of salt in a large bowl.

Chop up one large red bell pepper, 8 green onions, a big handful of cilantro and two big handfuls of tiny tomatoes (I just cut mine in half). Add a cup of corn kernels (I used frozen), a can of black beans (I used Trader Joe's Cuban black beans) and half a cup of pico de gallo.

Dump everything into the bowl of dressing and stir.

Dude. You will not be sorry.

So there's this artist named Kerri Smith who, among many other things, encourages us to create every day. The other day I happened upon her 100 Ideas and was inspired. I printed out seven copies (one for each woman in my life plus me) and cut them up into little glass jars. I dropped in a few additional treasures and there you have it. Little jars of inspiration anytime you need it.

The jars from Cost Plus had little chalkboard labels so I drew a butt on one 'cause I'm 9.

I made clothespin dolls because we're all girls and we love dolls. Just wrapped some clothespins I had left over from Halloween in fabric scraps

This one got a plastic beetle that I am thrilled to have out of the house.

I ordered these wooden keys from The Porkchop Show's Etsy store. I had no idea what I was going to do with them when I bought them but I was physically unable to resist them. Now their purpose has been revealed.

These are recycled paper journals from Target. They're the exact size of a passport and I tarted them up a touch with images I printed from here onto label paper.

Here's mine.

I have made a concerted effort to ban cynicism from my life. It defined my early adulthood and I got to the point where I couldn't even bear my own company. The thing about cynicism is that (at first) it's funny and can make people think you're smart. So you learn to like it maybe more than you should. It becomes second nature to say the snarky, dark thing just to get a cheap laugh. Once it takes hold, though, it just makes everyone, yourself included, hate you.

So, I try to look on the bright side. I try to give people and organizations and even (though it's hard lately) politicians the benefit of the doubt. But I have to admit, I did not see this coming: California Supreme Court overturns gay marriage ban.

Yesterday, after 55 years together, Phyllis Lyon and Del Martin became the first officially married same sex couple in California after the ban was lifted. Mazel tov, ladies. My joy for your happy union is only slightly dulled by the shame that it was ever otherwise for you.

I don't know when we found our rhythm as a family. I remember this time last year we still didn't really know what we were doing or how we should spend our days. We vacillated between hanging out in front of the tv all day and going on big, exhausting outings. We didn't really know about happy mediums. This Father's Day was a really lovely example of something in between. Just the right pace for us on a Sunday.

We spent the morning opening presents and eating fried eggs & bacon. Then we waddled down to the pool for an hour of Dash climbing out and jumping as far as he could into Josh's arms. An hour of this. My husband is a saint.

After naps and fresh clothes we drove to The Stand for hot dogs and chili fries. They had live jazz and Dash danced and tipped the musicians. Many other families had the same Father's Day idea as us, so there were lots of kids and beaming dads gorging on elaborate dogs and the beautiful late afternoon breeze.

Sated, we rolled outta there to Coldstone for even more gluttony and wandered over to the new marketplace they're building down the hill from us. There's a little pond and a bridge and lots of fountains for Dash to threaten to jump into. We rambled around there until bedtime.

It wasn't one of those big days. We didn't make reservations anywhere and Josh wasn't obligated to drink any beer or grill any meat. It was just a quiet day full of laughing and exchanged shrugs: how did we get this lucky?

Happy Father's Day, baby.

(all pix taken w/ my crappy camera phone)