Back from an unintentional hiatus

I’m honestly a little afraid to look back to see how long it’s been since I’ve posted something here. A couple months at least.

It’s not that I haven’t had anything to write about. We’ve gone on trips, we’ve gone to concerts, we’ve socialized with llamas, we’ve hung out with teenagers. But the truth is, my busy calendar has been accompanied by waning energy. I’d like to blame being 50, but 50 truly isn’t old enough to use “I’m tired” as an excuse not to write. I mean, I’m currently in a recliner with tea and a cat. How hard is this?

The days when I can lounge in pjs and skip the make-up, I’m quite content to zone out on the internet or make a dent in my DVR recordings (finally all caught up on “Young Sheldon”). Somehow writing seems too taxing. Which is so odd because writing actually brings me energy and joy and happy.

Much like ditching the gym for a couple of months, the longer I’ve gone without posting anything, the harder it has become to get the motivation to jump right in and resume a good habit.

But jumping right in is really the only way to do it. So here I am, jumping right in.

So what have I been doing since August 24 (I had to look. YIKES.)?

Well, in early September Rob and I took that trip to Canada that we tried to take last year but got detoured by life. Instead of training it, we drove. Which while not as pampering and full of delicious scones and regional wines (Rocky Mountaineer train travel is spectacular), the automotive route was still extraordinarily scenic and relaxing.

I finally got to cross “see Banff” off my bucket list, and we got to see the enormity of the Canadian Rockies without the smoke screen we encountered last year. We saw lots of wildlife and had one of the best meals of our lives in Lake Louise (these events are unrelated; however, who knew bison was so tasty?!). It was a fantastic trip. I’m grateful we held true to our promise to my dad last year that we would retake the interrupted trip if he promised to stay out of ICU. Gold stars all around!

We enjoyed this view in Jasper National Park with wine,
donuts, and parkas.

Banff is so walkable!  A week after I took this
photo, this street was dusted with snow.

Glacial lakes are gorgeous.

We drove the Icefields Parkway twice just to try
to grasp how gigantic the Canadian Rockies are.

Power play by a bighorn sheep

Lake Louise before a breeze picked up and created
lots of ripples.

A couple weeks after we got back from Canada, we had a very musical weekend of the decades.

On a Saturday night, I dragged Rob to an Evening of My Adolescence. Boy George and Culture Club were the headliners. The B-52s opened for them, and one-third of the Thompson Twins opened for the B-52s. It was an unsettling evening.

The Thompson Twins was a favorite band in high school. They were actually three people, none biologically related -- a fact my dad found quite amusing.  I saw the Twins a couple times in concert in the heyday of the synthesized ‘80s. They were soooo gooooood!

And now, 35 years later? They…or rather, one he…is soooo baaaaaad!

Although I know their discography quite well, there were several songs I didn’t recognize for an embarrassingly (to him) long time. Tom Bailey’s voice ain’t what it used to be, and the Twins clearly need the full talent of three to be musically enjoyable.

Tom was not alone on stage, though. No, the 62-year-old grandpa was surrounded by a harem of slender women in their 20s who were not actually playing the instruments in front of them. They mostly danced around to songs they had likely never heard before they got hired for the gig and essentially played air guitar and air drums.  In all honesty, it was sort of pathetic.

Tom’s concert was so bad, at one point I was literally moaning and wincing in pain. Rob consoled me by introducing a phrase made famous in the military. Rob encouraged me to “embrace the suck,” to try to find humor and enjoyment in the dismal, sad, ridiculousness of a singer who should have given up touring a long time ago…and his aging fans who should have known better.

I tried my best to laugh off the agony.  However, I insisted on listening to my iPod Thompson Twins collection on our drive home in hopes of erasing the memory of Tom Bailey so painfully butchering the soundtrack of my adolescence.  Doctor, Doctor indeed.

It was like a really cheap MTV video from the '80s plus a
big red dot from Target

Fortunately, Boy George more than made up for Tom's cringe-worthy performance. Although George is five years OLDER than Tom Bailey, Mr. George definitely still has it going on. What a fantastic concert!

I had never seen Culture Club in person when they were first tumbling for us and not really wanting to hurt us and talking about chameleons and karma. My bad! Because if they sound this good in 2018, I really missed out on something spectacular in 1985.

I was sad that George didn’t do much of his iconic hip-swaying, understated, flowy dancing. Mostly because I sort of dance just like him and wanted to see my dance sensei at work. But George still wears a felt hat and long capes and presumably black eyeliner (I forgot to bring binoculars). And aside from a couple of missed high notes here and there, he still sounds just like his 30-year-old self.

Before that night in September, I had never realized that Culture Club is a mash-up of big band, blues, and reggae music. I guess I was too busy dancing and watching the pop videos.

Without those distractions of my youth, I found a whole new appreciation for both the music and the man behind it. I was seriously touched as George expressed true gratitude for still being around after 30-plus years, and still having fans despite a number of destructive, fame-driven detours along the way. His humility made me like him even more. I’m hoping Santa brings me Culture Club's new album. On CD, since I'm nostalgic that way and cassettes aren't vintagely hip yet.

The stage setup was so simple yet classy.  With musicians
who actually played their instruments.

The next night, I dragged Rob to a nearby casino to see an opinionated, somewhat bitter Canadian who was iconically ironic in the ‘90s. Although the venue sort of sucked (a ballroom with banquet chairs – terrible traffic flow and limited visibility), Alanis Morrisette rocked the crystal chandeliers. She still yodeled better than any Ricola commercial, and she got a whole new generation of feminists worked up into a sing-along, #metoo frenzy. I quite enjoyed it. Rob was terrified.

Alanis is that bright blob in the middle.  I watched most of
the concert on the large screens.

A few weeks later, Rob and I trekked back up to Canada for a few hours. What is it with us and Canada?!?

In our continued quest to earn free laundry on the Love Boat someday, we took another one-day repositioning cruise from Seattle to Vancouver, BC. Unlike the last time we tried to beat the system, this one-day-er was not a massive Booze Cruise. It was much more family-friendly and passengers were much better behaved and much less stumbly.

We had a lovely dinner at one of the specialty restaurants, sipped wine, walked around, listened to some music, slept on the not-terribly-high seas, and then rode a bus back to Seattle and drove home.

The whole jaunt, including a fancy dinner, wine, shuttles, parking, and a 4-hour international bus ride cost less than a new smartphone. Pretty reasonable for a weekend get-away on a cruise ship! And one step closer to being able to hand our laundry bag to a room steward and have clean clothes returned to us for free. (If you’ve ever spent time babysitting a washer and dryer in the cramped, steamy laundry room on a cruise ship while other vacationers are vacationing, you appreciate what a dream that is).

Pro tip:  Bring your own bottle of wine!

We got into Cruise Mode surprisingly fast.

Sunrise in Vancouver, BC.
Pro tip:  Book the cheapest interior room available
and gratefully accept the free upgrade to a balcony room

Beyond those out-and-aboutings, we’ve basically enjoyed all things Fall-ish the past two months. I was thrilled to have the rain finally return a couple of weeks ago. As much as I grow weary of having to match freshly laundered socks in the winter, I’m thrilled it also means the end of Leg Shaving Season. Sorry, Rob.

Our annual Seahawks game.  We chose these seats because
I wanted to see what it was like to see the players come out
from the locker room.  It was pretty awesome!  Worth getting
rained on to actually see the faces of my favorite players.

Grateful to our friend Laurie who helped us harvest our
250lbs of Riesling grapes.  Wine making underway in our barn!

The ultimate wedding crashers!  Such a blast
helping Rojo and Napoleon entertain wedding
guests.  I forget sometimes this isn't normal.

So now here we are on November 8.  The clocks are turned back, we've had our first freeze, and the air has that wonderfully sweet smell of decaying leaves.  I'm trying to wrap my head around the need to figure out a Thanksgiving menu and the abrupt arrival of Christmas ads and Starbucks red cups.

But I have finally jumped back into blogging. And my heart is happy.