Needs: Simple and few

I am always so happy to be home, even after a nice trip away. We had a wonderful time visiting Brian's parents for Thanksgiving. The Thanksgiving feast was fantastic, visiting with family friends was fun, having ready access to multiple people willing to keep an eye on Adriana was relaxing, and access to multiple kinds of pie at a moment's notice was a dream come true. But we came home on Saturday, and that was the right thing to do. Not only was it cheaper to fly on Saturday rather than Sunday, but the airports were relatively empty. After some trips we get home late on Sunday night with nothing in the house for dinner, and on top of our normal busy-ness during the week, I start off Monday with unpacking and extra laundry. By getting home on Saturday afternoon, we changed that. Brian took Adriana straight to the park while I unloaded the car, started laundry, sorted through mail, and defrosted some soup for our dinner. Then Brian came home and made margaritas* and we played with the kiddo, hoping she would get a second wind in spite of her very short nap. We ate dinner together and Brian bathed the baby while I cleaned up. And then she went to bed early.

Plus, now we have this extra day at home together. It's the same Sunday we have every week. I get up early to have some time to myself, and when Brian and Adriana get up we will all eat breakfast and ride our bikes to the farmers' market. We may pick up lunch and stop at the park on the way home, or we may just go home and have a park trip after Adriana's nap. 

It's all so simple, so mundane, and yet it's exactly what I want, exactly why this is home, and exactly why I am so glad to be here.

*"Hmmm," I said, finishing mine, "I was hungry and thirsty, so I poured myself a glass of water and then drank a margarita instead." 

"Well," Brian said, "that shows a remarkable....sense of adventure."

Halloween

When I first met Brian I didn't understand his deep true love for Halloween. I mean, I love candy and playing dress-up as much as the next kid, but is it really a holiday one must celebrate with family?

Well, it turns out that if you come from a neighborhood that gets exponentially more trick-or-treaters than I've ever seen in my life, you certainly do. I mean, you don't even worry about having people ring your doorbell in this neighborhood: you just sit out on the front porch and people form a line that reaches down to the street.



That graph right there shows that my in-laws provided candy to 1,715 trick-or-treaters last Wednesday, just slightly more than last year. So Brian, Adriana, and I spent all of last week in South Pasadena, where we decked out the front yard with ugly ghouls strung across the lawn on fishing line, fun jack-o-lanterns, and Herman, the dummy who is dropped on unsuspecting little beggars as they made their way up the the driveway.

Herman, hanging in the trees:


The ugliest Halloween decoration ever:


Pumpkins (I did the witch):







And now, what I know you've all been waiting for, my favorite squooshy monkey: