It's the most wonderful time of the years!

 (I love this last picture because it demonstrates perfectly how we all could be doing the most random things while Darien is always ready for the camera)

All these people are in my Christmas future. I could not be more excited. It's been three years since I was home for Christmas (Jake's fault) and then, I was 2 days away from getting married and I think I stole everyone's stress free Christmas away. The year before I was heartbroken and alone with my parents (all I remember is watching It's a Wonderful Life nearly in tears and sending a spiteful text message--I was pretty much insane). This year, everyone is together, a dog will be flown in, we will be sewing our faces off, making adventurous food, watching a bowl game, Dad will cry at whatever movie we see, and the wedding will be for my wonderful friend Nikki. AND there is no freakish snow on the ground that would delay our flight for a week. I want to do a little dance, I am so happy.

Boo finals

Jon's finals have left me bored, carless, and without cable. I've gotten a lot of hand quilting done, which is good, but I have to watch horrible things like Jay Leno (nevermind--hello Star Trek Next Generation!). Why does Kenz live three time zones away? But I do have a couple exciting things to announce. One, I bought 24 boxes of Chex last night and spent $36 and saved $60. Two, I bought our anniversary present today. We usually don't get presents because our anniversary is two days after Christmas, but this year we decided we wanted matching, supersoft bathrobes. Not monogrammed yet, but hopefully soon.

Photoboothing yourself in your new bathrobe is admittedly lame, but in the process I found out that Jon takes random pictures of himself when I am napping. Talk about an early Christmas present.

What do you think he was looking at?

Am I 24? or 54?

 I was just thinking about how I don't know what I want for Christmas. Mostly, I am so excited to see all my family and I am content with my mostly present-less Christmas (reason for that apparent in two sentences).  Well, I do want a few things, but they are so...not exciting when said out loud. I've gotten a few things already, like a cast iron pot (fist pump!) and my beautiful, amazing, already-been-used-for-hours-and-hours-and-more-hours Viking sewing machine (swoon!). I know, real exciting. The only other thing I could think of to tell Jon was jersey sheets, but then I watched Martha this morning and my world turned upside down...

A PASTA PRESS ATTACHMENT FOR YOUR KITCHENAID. And yes, it needed to be shouted. I think I was sold as soon as I saw it included a plate for bucatini, the best pasta ever. Like hollow spaghetti.  You just plop a lump of dough in there and you can have amazing homemade pasta. I need this. I want to make fresh rigatoni, fusilli, and macaroni. I am way too excited about this machine. Especially since it is $180. Jon, think of all the money I will save us...

I am so lost in homemaker gadgetland I can never be recovered. Which is fine. Back to sewing!

What I could be like with more motivation and talent

My sister Mackenzie is cool. She has a name that you can legitimately shorten (she is mostly known as "kenzie" in the professional realm). You can shorten my name ("mal") which many people call me, but mostly because it saves two syllables. (Does your nick name inherently mean "bad?") Sometimes Jon introduces me to new people as Mal, and it upsets me because I think he is telling people my name is the sound a cat makes. Anyway. Back to Kenz. She crafts and does wonderful things with crazy crafting tools and has a dream of crafting fo' life. And she is living it! Over Thanksgiving she sold her stuff at Second Storie Indie Market in Rochester and casually and easily made friends with some of the biggest crafters and bloggers in the country! (some from Portland, ps) Jealous! If you need ideas for some Christmas gifts head on over to her etsy site--her magnets look amazing and are so powerful if you try to make fake earrings with them it really hurts. Which is a good thing. (psst you should post your cards too sis)

And I love Kenz because she does not use the words "found" and "bespoke," two words that for me have become the equivalent of "moist." 

Why have my last 3 posts been about TV?

Mal: Scrubs--Medical School seems a lot like...
Jon: Saved By the Bell: The New Class.
Mal: Exactly.

And while we're at it...

Oh, no you didn't

I need to be packing, but I'm wasting time and watching bad/great judge shows, because Comcast figured out they were giving us 40 channels for free last week. (wah wah wah...good while it lasted) And I have had two viruses in a row, so TV watching has been somewhat essential, you know how it is. Back to judge shows. They are numerous, and in my investigation of new-to-me channels I found this jem--





Nothing improves a horrible show with a horrible gimmick. See justice served live, on a sidewalk, with the sound of traffic in the background! (with Judge "Mazz")

What to do?

When...

You spill water on a newly ordered library book (I am the first to check it out--ever)? I am going to have to turn it in and confess my deed. Do I send it with a note? Do I tell the kind older lady or younger tattooed lady that I would like to buy the book outright, because it pretty much changed my life?

Then, every time I reach the epilogue and turn the very wrinkled pages, it will remind me of that plane ride. The ride where I spilled a full cup of ice water on the book and my lap, making me look like I peed my pants. And I didn't care about other people seeing that guilty looking patch of pants, but I did care about walking around the airport with very wet, cold jeans. Which is the worst. (!) I've come a long way since high school, when I sat in a wet restaurant chair before the homecoming dance, staining my gray satin skirt. I was so emotionally fragile and nervous that I first accused my overly sweaty legs of soaking through 10 layers of tulle rather than think the chair was to blame. I spent the rest of the night overly apologetic and shuffling along walls to hide the dark spot.

So I really hope I can buy this book. Because it reminds me of how much I love being a twin, how much I love actually having self esteem (and not being in high school), and how I probably got the swine flu from the guy coughing next to me on the plane. All equally important and historic facts.

Perfect dance pants

It's embarrassing when you take the trouble to create a meticulous costume, only to have someone else show up wearing the same thing.

And my friend Tara had no idea who Hulk Hogan was or is. Like never, ever heard of him. My mind was blown, to say the least. (Sorry Tara, but this was so astonishing to me that it had to be made public.)

Lesson learned?

You can never go through too many safety scenarios with your mother. Yesterday, our past conversation about how to deal with sinister dogs on a run became relevant and significant (although became slightly muddled with grizzly tips in the moment).

I was barely out of my house and down the street when an enormous German Shepherd-type dog came running down a driveway, snarling and crouching straight at me. I started running towards a fence and panicked, thinking some thing like,  "I'm going to get mauled. Right now. I don't know what to do. What do I do?" Subconsciously I remembered that dogs like to chase, so I stopped running, turned around, and tried to stop the dog with some type of yelled word, a combination of "stop" and "gah." I don't know if the dog just wanted to scare me or I scared the dog, but he ran back to the house. Also I remember thinking "make yourself look big," and then realized I have no idea how to do that. And really, how do you do that?

I learned two things--it turns out I can slightly control myself in a scary situation, and my bear defense skills are severely lacking.

(When I got home I emailed Jon my dramatic tale of horror, and his response was something like "Sounds scary. While we are on the subject, can you turn in the Netflix?")

punkins

A dog in the lap is worth two in the window

Mia. You are beyond cute. You love to snuggle. You think I'm the jam. You love to play with great danes. But you are gassy. Real, real, gassy. Next time you come over let's work on that, shall we?

Mal

go see

Each night in September, birds called Vaux's Swifts migrate south and roost in a chimney of an old elementary school in downtown Portland (largest known roosting site in the world, ps). They are tiny, black, bat-like birds that gather at sunset, and suddenly enter the chimney, creating swirling formations and attracting predator hawks. If you are in Portland, I highly recommend taking a blanket, snacks, and join the hundreds of people that watch the show each night. It was amazing. We went again last night, and Jon and I were the only ones of the group that had the honor of being pooped on.




Don't forget your swift costume.

And as I mentioned above, sitting close is exciting, but in the poop splash zone, so weigh the risks.

Hall Travel Gallery

Although at sometimes disputed, Jon has great (well, passable) fire-making skills. And is partially transparent here.

"Chateau" can mean many different things to many different people. (Can you find me?)

When in Cave Junction, do as the Cave Junctioners do.

All worthy enormous trees should be named and labeled. A six mile hike, however, may not be the best way to see one. So I might have stretched the truth in my last post, but who cares. It felt like seven.

Great ideas happen after laying awake for hours the night before, worrying about bears. (Thus, s'more pancakes with a touch of maple. Genius!)

Always stop and check out things that have the word "devil" associated with it. Guaranteed good.

Always have a plan B.

Travelling, Hall style

When camping, it is important to loose yourself in nature, but don't get too lost. When you go to set up camp and realize you forgot your tent poles at home, having a store nearby to buy a new shelter is essential.

Estimate at least two hours to make a fire.

Try to stay in remote mountian hotels with minimal frills and comfortable lodges. A seemingly minimum entrance age of 65 is a plus.

If you feel like a seven mile hike, skip it and go with the two miler. Trust me.