Showing posts with label The Awesome Neighbors. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Awesome Neighbors. Show all posts
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Thursday, October 1, 2009
ZOMGBEATLESROCKBAND
Frankly, all the reviews are right: it's amazing. The sound is unbelievably crisp, the song choice is great, and the animation is more like a feature film than a video game. You know what this means: Bundy Kid Thanksgiving is gonna be OFF THE HOOK THIS YEAR (can I get a "what?what?" up in here??).
The neighbors came over last Sunday night to help us break in the new peripherals, including Beatles-themed drums, mike with mike stand, and a supersweet Hofner viola-style bass controller.
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Franklin likes the drums, too, but not as much as ...
... the box they came in. It was a great opportunity to I talked to him about how awesome it is to build forts.
The neighbors came over last Sunday night to help us break in the new peripherals, including Beatles-themed drums, mike with mike stand, and a supersweet Hofner viola-style bass controller.
.JPG)
.JPG)
Franklin likes the drums, too, but not as much as ...
... the box they came in. It was a great opportunity to I talked to him about how awesome it is to build forts.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Remember the Exterior Paint Project?
We got about halfway done last summer, but this year we were smarter: we hired someone else to do it. And it turned out even better than we expected.
Here's when we bought the house.
Today!
Our place on the left, Tim and Sarah's on the right.
Here's when we bought the house.
Today!
Our place on the left, Tim and Sarah's on the right.
Monday, June 22, 2009
The Kiddie Pool Inaugural
Seza and I have talked for years about drinking margaritas in a kiddie pool in the backyard. Frankie was just a little more incentive (I thanked him for letting me use him as an excuse to buy a toy that I wanted for myself).
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Friday, May 8, 2009
Early May in the Garden
Little violets under the pine tree ...
... potted pansies on the veranda...
... George at sunset ...
... and the tree in Frankie and Radar's backyard.
... potted pansies on the veranda...
... George at sunset ...
... and the tree in Frankie and Radar's backyard.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Carpool Updates
For a while now, M and I have been carpooling to work with next-door Tim. (Our carpool used to include Seza, too, but her office moved to downtown St. Paul -- we miss you, Seza!) Starting last week, we’ll be joined three days a week by a new commuter, pictured here on the ride home from daycare last Friday.
Without going into all the details, one result of our new companion’s schedule is that two days a week, we take Tim and Seza’s car; on the other three days, we take our car. This has introduced some minor variables into our previously static commuting process. Nothing major -- we just have to remember whose car we’re taking, who’s got the parking pass, what time we leave, etc. Should be no problem, except that remembering things is made complicated by the very nature of reality at 6:55 a.m. in January in Minnesota: it’s dark, it’s cold, and we’re usually running late or under-caffeinated or both.
All of those things were true this morning when we encountered a little bump in our departure. Back story: When I worked from home last Friday, M needed the car key to drive, but I needed the remote access fob attached to my key ring to get online. So I took off the car key and gave it to M, but forgot to ask for it back. M put it in the cubby in the driver’s side armrest so he’d know where it was when it was time for him to give it back.
But then a weekend goes by, a new week begins and this morning, M gets ready to go warm up the car (temps are in the single digits again today).
“Got your keys?” he asks.
I peer into my purse and see the corner of my keychain. “Yep!”
M starts the car with his key and leaves it (locked) to warm up. Five minutes later, we’re all ready to head to work, except -- I don’t need to tell you where my car key was, right?
Thank goodness for AAA (Dad, once again, that membership makes a terrific Christmas gift -- thank you!). They had someone there within 15 minutes. The best part: he arrived with a Boston terrier in the passenger seat of his tow truck. Forget the car; I had to know all about the dog!
Evidently, the terrier (named Frankie Sinatra -- how awesome is that?!?) hated being left alone and routinely tore apart his owner’s home, so the driver starting bringing him along on his service calls. “These days, he’s the calmest terrier I’ve ever met, he loves people and he never barks,” the driver told me. Frankie’s been coming to work with him for several months now and the two of them are having a ball.
A happy puppy story almost makes being locked out worth it.
Without going into all the details, one result of our new companion’s schedule is that two days a week, we take Tim and Seza’s car; on the other three days, we take our car. This has introduced some minor variables into our previously static commuting process. Nothing major -- we just have to remember whose car we’re taking, who’s got the parking pass, what time we leave, etc. Should be no problem, except that remembering things is made complicated by the very nature of reality at 6:55 a.m. in January in Minnesota: it’s dark, it’s cold, and we’re usually running late or under-caffeinated or both.
All of those things were true this morning when we encountered a little bump in our departure. Back story: When I worked from home last Friday, M needed the car key to drive, but I needed the remote access fob attached to my key ring to get online. So I took off the car key and gave it to M, but forgot to ask for it back. M put it in the cubby in the driver’s side armrest so he’d know where it was when it was time for him to give it back.
But then a weekend goes by, a new week begins and this morning, M gets ready to go warm up the car (temps are in the single digits again today).
“Got your keys?” he asks.
I peer into my purse and see the corner of my keychain. “Yep!”
M starts the car with his key and leaves it (locked) to warm up. Five minutes later, we’re all ready to head to work, except -- I don’t need to tell you where my car key was, right?
Thank goodness for AAA (Dad, once again, that membership makes a terrific Christmas gift -- thank you!). They had someone there within 15 minutes. The best part: he arrived with a Boston terrier in the passenger seat of his tow truck. Forget the car; I had to know all about the dog!
Evidently, the terrier (named Frankie Sinatra -- how awesome is that?!?) hated being left alone and routinely tore apart his owner’s home, so the driver starting bringing him along on his service calls. “These days, he’s the calmest terrier I’ve ever met, he loves people and he never barks,” the driver told me. Frankie’s been coming to work with him for several months now and the two of them are having a ball.
A happy puppy story almost makes being locked out worth it.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
Welcome, Franklin!
Our newest Awesome NeighborTM, Franklin -- heretofore glimpsed only in hiding (or as part of a Juno costume)-- arrived around 2:00 a.m. on Sunday morning. Seza was in labor for about 30 hours (!!) before the team decided that a C-section would be necessary. Both mother and baby are doing fine, although Franklin has a minor infection, which the doctors tell Tim is no big deal.
Welcome to the neighborhood, Franklin!
Welcome to the neighborhood, Franklin!
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Friday, October 24, 2008
Mary Anne Stops By
Mom was in for a five-night visit amid brisk Minnesota fall weather, perfect for solving crossword puzzles by the fire with the next-door neighbors.
Friday, May 30, 2008
The Other Neighbors
Our deep appreciation for the Awesome NeighborsTM -- Tim and Seza -- to our north has been amply documentated here. With regards to the neighbors on the other side, that's a different story.
Until about two years ago, the house just south of ours was occupied by Joe, a rather quirky octogenarian who was very well-intentioned, but a bit challenging as a neighbor. He had an extremely yappy and unfriendly dog, a habit of referring to "the coloreds" (yes, I know you're old, but let's move on) and no qualms about strolling right into our house uninvited to drop off some extra food he'd made.
After Joe fell and was put in "the home" by his kids, the house sat empty for about a year, although his grandson (about our age) came by from time to time with his sweet yellow lab, Princess, to do some light repair work. At some point last spring, we encountered Joe's son and daughter-in-law in the backyard, who mentioned that the daughter-in-law's nephew would be moving into the house soon. We had some mixed emotions: it's better for the neighborhood not to have the house stand empty, but we'd come to enjoy having a little privacy on that side of the house.
My initial impression of the nephew -- let's call him E -- was fine. I was out planting things in the backyard, he stopped by and made some small talk about gardening (promising, I thought), and it was fine. However, subsequent interactions did quite a bit, almost immediately, to dampen that sentiment. E seems to like nothing so much as talking about himself -- how busy his business is, how much money he's making, how brilliant his ideas for the house are -- at inopportune times. I expected a basic awareness of group dynamics and human interaction would lead him to think, "Hm, Laura and Mason are entertaining guests and having a conversation with them right now. Maybe this isn't the time to interrupt with a monologue about how successful I am." Alas, no.
But everything that E lacks, his partner has in spades. He's a thoughtful and considerate conversationalist, subtle and warm, and he reads body language in that wonderful way that allows you to sit alone in the backyard without worrying that he's going to ambush you with unwanted interaction. We hung out with him a bit at the annual block party (which E, conveniently, couldn't attend) and were really impressed. We love the partner; we despise E.
M, for his part, hasn't necessarily hidden his disdain. I'm not so good at that and have been a bit more conversational, but there's no real reason for E to think we're close or anything. On the flip side, the partner is really that kind of person who would be a lovely neighbor, so when we started talking about putting up some kind of fence on that side of the yard, I was conflicted. Yes, the privacy would be very good, particularly since our patio is only a few feet from their yard. But I hated to do something that might offend the partner and upset our potential future interactions with him. The fact that M preferred to take any major funding for a fence and redirect it toward a Europe trip didn't un-complicate the matter.
"You do it," I told M. "I'm so bad with conflict."
"I'll have the conversation if you'll write me some talking points," he answered. Done. We agreed he'd talk to the partner, because that was the relationship we wanted to maintain.
A couple of weeks went by and somehow we never bumped into the partner, although we saw E come and go frequently. We were having dinner on the patio one of the first warm evenings of spring when E stepped out of his back porch and draped himself on one of the trellises I'd put up last summer.
"You know I love you guys, right?" he asked with a grin.
WTF? M and I looked at each other, and I looked at E and said, "Sounds like there's a 'but' coming."
"Well," E continued, "it's just that I was thinking about putting up some cheap reed fencing here. Nothing fancy, just a little something because, you know" -- and this is my favorite part of this story -- "I don't want to have to watch you eat."
!!!
My jaw dropped. I looked at M. "Did you two already talk?" I asked him. He shook his head, his mouth also open in surprise.
"Um," I said, turning back to E, "I've already bought some."
"What?" he asked.
"Got it a few weeks ago. English reed fencing. Six feet."
His face fell, as if he was offended that we'd thought of it first. "Oh. Well. I guess that's great, then." He brightened up again. "You know, I've got big plans for this backyard, including a vegetable garden, so it will also help keep out the rabbits."
That's it. He's a rabbit hater. We hate him.
He continued, "You gonna put it all the way around?"
No, dumbass, we like the other neighbors, I thought. We'd create our own little gated community if we could. But I said, "We're going to start with this side and see how it goes."
"Okay. Well, cool. Talk to you later."
He went back inside. M and I looked at each other, and I said, "The nice thing is, now I really don't have to give a crap about his feelings anymore."
We put up the fence the first nice day after that conversation. It came in three "bolts" of fencing, like fabric, to be tied on to existing fence poles with waxed black cord.
Took about 90 minutes and presented some challenges (I got a nasty splinter under my finger nail; M got pretty frustrated with trying to keep the thing from flopping over while I tied it to the existing wire fence), but it's there and it looks pretty nice. Not quite as "densely woven" as I expected -- you can pretty much see right through it on a sunny day -- but I think it will get the job done.
Until about two years ago, the house just south of ours was occupied by Joe, a rather quirky octogenarian who was very well-intentioned, but a bit challenging as a neighbor. He had an extremely yappy and unfriendly dog, a habit of referring to "the coloreds" (yes, I know you're old, but let's move on) and no qualms about strolling right into our house uninvited to drop off some extra food he'd made.
After Joe fell and was put in "the home" by his kids, the house sat empty for about a year, although his grandson (about our age) came by from time to time with his sweet yellow lab, Princess, to do some light repair work. At some point last spring, we encountered Joe's son and daughter-in-law in the backyard, who mentioned that the daughter-in-law's nephew would be moving into the house soon. We had some mixed emotions: it's better for the neighborhood not to have the house stand empty, but we'd come to enjoy having a little privacy on that side of the house.
My initial impression of the nephew -- let's call him E -- was fine. I was out planting things in the backyard, he stopped by and made some small talk about gardening (promising, I thought), and it was fine. However, subsequent interactions did quite a bit, almost immediately, to dampen that sentiment. E seems to like nothing so much as talking about himself -- how busy his business is, how much money he's making, how brilliant his ideas for the house are -- at inopportune times. I expected a basic awareness of group dynamics and human interaction would lead him to think, "Hm, Laura and Mason are entertaining guests and having a conversation with them right now. Maybe this isn't the time to interrupt with a monologue about how successful I am." Alas, no.
But everything that E lacks, his partner has in spades. He's a thoughtful and considerate conversationalist, subtle and warm, and he reads body language in that wonderful way that allows you to sit alone in the backyard without worrying that he's going to ambush you with unwanted interaction. We hung out with him a bit at the annual block party (which E, conveniently, couldn't attend) and were really impressed. We love the partner; we despise E.
M, for his part, hasn't necessarily hidden his disdain. I'm not so good at that and have been a bit more conversational, but there's no real reason for E to think we're close or anything. On the flip side, the partner is really that kind of person who would be a lovely neighbor, so when we started talking about putting up some kind of fence on that side of the yard, I was conflicted. Yes, the privacy would be very good, particularly since our patio is only a few feet from their yard. But I hated to do something that might offend the partner and upset our potential future interactions with him. The fact that M preferred to take any major funding for a fence and redirect it toward a Europe trip didn't un-complicate the matter.
That last issue was resolved when I found some inexpensive English reed fencing in a gardening catalog, six feet tall and "densely woven for maximum privacy."(I figured that "maximum privacy" in reed fence terms is probably comparable to "just enough of a barrier" in real life.) I ordered it in April and, while waiting for the weather to warm up so we could install it, fretted about how to tell E and his partner. Although within our rights, throwing the fence up with no warning seemed rude.
"You do it," I told M. "I'm so bad with conflict."
"I'll have the conversation if you'll write me some talking points," he answered. Done. We agreed he'd talk to the partner, because that was the relationship we wanted to maintain.
A couple of weeks went by and somehow we never bumped into the partner, although we saw E come and go frequently. We were having dinner on the patio one of the first warm evenings of spring when E stepped out of his back porch and draped himself on one of the trellises I'd put up last summer.
"You know I love you guys, right?" he asked with a grin.
WTF? M and I looked at each other, and I looked at E and said, "Sounds like there's a 'but' coming."
"Well," E continued, "it's just that I was thinking about putting up some cheap reed fencing here. Nothing fancy, just a little something because, you know" -- and this is my favorite part of this story -- "I don't want to have to watch you eat."
!!!
My jaw dropped. I looked at M. "Did you two already talk?" I asked him. He shook his head, his mouth also open in surprise.
"Um," I said, turning back to E, "I've already bought some."
"What?" he asked.
"Got it a few weeks ago. English reed fencing. Six feet."
His face fell, as if he was offended that we'd thought of it first. "Oh. Well. I guess that's great, then." He brightened up again. "You know, I've got big plans for this backyard, including a vegetable garden, so it will also help keep out the rabbits."
That's it. He's a rabbit hater. We hate him.
He continued, "You gonna put it all the way around?"
No, dumbass, we like the other neighbors, I thought. We'd create our own little gated community if we could. But I said, "We're going to start with this side and see how it goes."
"Okay. Well, cool. Talk to you later."
He went back inside. M and I looked at each other, and I said, "The nice thing is, now I really don't have to give a crap about his feelings anymore."
We put up the fence the first nice day after that conversation. It came in three "bolts" of fencing, like fabric, to be tied on to existing fence poles with waxed black cord.
Took about 90 minutes and presented some challenges (I got a nasty splinter under my finger nail; M got pretty frustrated with trying to keep the thing from flopping over while I tied it to the existing wire fence), but it's there and it looks pretty nice. Not quite as "densely woven" as I expected -- you can pretty much see right through it on a sunny day -- but I think it will get the job done.
Saturday, February 2, 2008
GH + AN = KAT
That would be: "Guitar Hero + AwesomeNeighborsTM = Kick-Ass Time!" :)
And yes, that is a plaid fleece blanket covering the window. We broke the blinds and the replacement ones are being shipped, so this is our temporary solution. Elegant, no?
And yes, that is a plaid fleece blanket covering the window. We broke the blinds and the replacement ones are being shipped, so this is our temporary solution. Elegant, no?
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
B-Day Fun
For the first time in a few years (thank you, William Mitchell, for some less-than-lovely finals-week birthdays), I had an awesome birthday! We started out with brunch at Hell's Kitchen (Mom will remember another birthday brunch there from a few years back) with Cathy...
... and ETC ...
... followed by a little Christmas shopping downtown. 
... or "Private Eyes" with Tim.
Good stuff!
... and ETC ...
... followed by a little Christmas shopping downtown. Then (odd timing, I know) we had the AwesomeNeighborsTM come over to take a few snapshots of us to use for our Christmas cards. (I looked through lots of photos from the last few years, and there are very few of M and I together -- mostly because either he's holding the camera or I am.) I think we're leaning toward using the photo below; now I just have to get around to ordering the cards.
Photo time was followed by nap time (how could a good birthday NOT include nap time?!?), and then present time. As you can see below, I was wayyyy excited to get another Bachman's GC this year. Thanks, Dad and Bunny!
Then we had a lovely dinner at Al Vento before meeting up with the AwesomeNeighborsTM for karaoke at the Cardinal. M's performances were the highlight, mostly because he didn't know the words to either of the songs he sang: "Nine to Five" with Sarah (during which he just mostly yelled "NINE TO FIVE!" a bunch of times)...
... or "Private Eyes" with Tim.
Good stuff! 
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