Whose kid IS that?!

Dear fellow passengers of Delta Flight #3804,

I hereby express my formal and sincere apology for the continued, ear-piercing, utterly blood-curdling screaming emanating for a full 30 minutes from the small curly-haired toddler sitting in row four. I promise that I was not deliberately torturing her, but apparently sitting in a chair with the seat belt on constitutes torture to a two year old. (By the way, the contortions used as an attempted escape tactic were actually quite amazing.) Thank you for not throwing me even one single dirty look even though I know you felt like throwing us out at 20,000 feet.

Forever grateful,
Frazzled Mama

P.S. Hope you're not on the return flight next week.

Ava Can't Even Count to 30!

So it begins, the climb to the top of the hill. I've been there and I know what you're thinking; somehow, for some reason, birthdays seem less and less significant, less exciting. But nothing is more exciting than growing old with my Mare.

Happy Birthday, love!

"Success is like reaching an important birthday and finding you're exactly the same."

- Audrey Hepburn

Achtung, Baby!

There may not be 11:1 compression ratio or 5.0 liter pistons but she's got it were it counts, kid.

Our Volkswagen is known by a few names; the "good bus" by Ava, "Daisy" by Mare, and I am sure many fellow motorists, especially those stuck behind us as we struggled to get up the local canyons, have called it "...that, !#*@ hippie bus". As for me, after a lot of hard work whipping her into shape, nothing says reliable German engineering weighing in at around 2,700 lbs like "Helga."

(insert various stereotypes here)


Helga experienced quite a bit of body work over the past year. A complete roof conversion left her easily 150 pounds lighter. The interior was was completely removed and refurbished with new headliner, LED overhead lights, wood floor, carpet and stereo. My new friend Ray Brown, worked her brakes, wheel bearings and timing over. So now she is running and handling as smooth as she was 39 years ago when she was shipped to San Diego.

And although I can envision Mare rolling her eyes as I say this, her 40th birthday will be in March next year. Hey, how many 40 year-olds do you still see livin' strong, after extensive makeovers...wait, let me rephrase. 40 year old cars, I mean, of course.


Hopefully, she will see one more camping trip before the snow falls. Anyone interested?