Moving Diaries: Choose Your Words Carefully

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Blair and I spent the afternoon packing the library and front room. We were pulling photo albums and stray pictures out of a cabinet, deciding what stays and what goes. 

"Is this your mom?" Blair asked, handing me a photo of a 10-year-old blonde girl with a bow in her hair that had been laquered within an inch of its life to a piece of wood (woodshop project, 7th grade). 

"Yes," I said. 

"And what about this little fella here?" said Blair, handing me a picture of a chubby baby in a blue sweater sitting on a couch. "Is this your dad?"

"That's me, you igit," I said. 

Things took an ugly turn from there. 

Dena

Earth Fare Earthlete

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Good news! I've been selected to be an Earthlete - an Earth Fare Athlete Ambassador.

For those of you reading this blog that don't live around here, Earth Fare is my grocery store of choice. It's like a super-healthy boutique take on Whole Foods. To be blunt, I all but live there. Their produce makes me cry, it's so pretty. I'm on a first name basis with 90% of the store employees. I eat lunch there at least twice a week. I know on which days at what times they set out their free sample foods. You get the idea. 

Part of being an Earthlete is a 15% discount - stoked! (Actually Blair is probably more excited about that then I am.) Plus I get to represent the store at a few events I compete in throughout the year --they're sending me free gear which probably translates to "Wear our t-shirt when you run" but I don't mind. Love that store, love the people there, love their food philosophy. 

I just received the official e-mail this morning so there will be more details to follow. Presumably something outlining the red carpet roll-out when they present me with my crown and scepter. 

Cheers,

Dena

Moving Diaries: Quid Pro Quo

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Blair and I have started going through the house with a ruthless eye toward packing. This morning we went through our bookshelves. I love you, Amy Tan, but sorry, Drowning With Fish was NOT a good book and didn't make the cut. Same for you, This Was America, which we've never read. (And for the record, neither of us is willing to claim responsibility for bringing you into the home in the first place.) The Last Tycoon by F. Scott Fitzgerald just made it through, but barely. And the editing continues. 

We're getting ready to go through our offices where I tend to be brutal, but Blair has threatened retaliation in the kitchen if I'm too heavy-handed. I don't care what he says, a day will come again when he'll thank me for holding on to the bread maker... even though I no longer eat bread. 

Stay tuned for Stage 2: Breaking Things To Avoid Dealing With Packing Them.

Cheers,

Dena