since we last met

Since we last met—and I mean before this lovely autumnal month of changing leaves and earlier sunsets and an acceptable time to wear knee-high boots—a lot has happened in the McSwedolish family.

For one thing, we undertook a kitchen and bathroom renovation in the house that we purchased last year. It was and was not probably the best idea we’ve had.

For another thing, we went to Canada. It was magical. It involved bagels, and poutine. I’ll have to tell you about it some time.

For a third thing, we had a second baby. She is more magical than Canada.

But the most exciting thing that has happened since we last met, my friends, is that I saw where Missy Elliott lives.  

No YOU get UR freak on, because I am not even bullshitting you about this.

In February we went to visit some friends in Atlanta, and one afternoon, as my pal and I were driving….to the grocery store? To get frozen yogurts? Honestly, I’m not sure where we were going. I’m sure there was a point to our drive, but for the life of me I can’t remember what it was now except to see where Missy Elliot lived.

And my friend presented the option to me all casual-like. “Oh, hey, while we’re driving down this road, want to see Missy Elliott’s house? My friends live right around the corner from her and we’re nearby.”

Do I want to see Missy Elliott’s house?

Do I want to see where the woman whose music informed much of my drunken early- to mid-20s lives?

Do I want to see what the home of a woman who has been a powerhouse of music looks like?

Do I want to furiously look up the lyrics to that garbled part of “Work It” and finally figure out what she’s rapping?*

Yes. To all of the above.

So we did.

We pulled into a cul de sac, and drove around slowly and my friend pointed and said, “That’s it there. That’s Missy Elliott’s house.”

And it will probably come as no surprise to anyone (including myself) that Missy Elliott’s house is just a normal house in a cul-de-sac. It’s modern and lovely—different than the Spanish style and lovely houses of her neighbors, which does make it stand out a little. Well, that and the firmly displayed No Trespassing signs—and it was so normal looking that if you didn’t know it was Missy Elliott’s house, you wouldn’t know it was Missy Elliott’s house. I guess that’s the point, though? Celebrities, just like us, etc etc. It’s not like I expected her to be popping moves while floating rhymes on her front lawn while Timbaland and Ludacris made guest appearances, jumping out from the backyard.

Though that would have been amazong.

We admired Missy Elliott’s house for a couple of minutes and then, not wanting to look like suspicious stalkers casing the joint, drove away. I gave a little wave, just in case Missy Elliott happened to be looking out her window at that moment, though what I really, really wanted to do was lean out the window and shout “ICHI NI SAN SHI!”** I did not, though, and you’re welcome for that, Missy Elliott’s Neighbors. But you can damn bet that on my next trip to Atlanta, I just might.

 

*According to the Interwebs it’s “put my thing down flip it and reverse it” backwards

**No idea if I’m spelling that correctly.

 

photo friday: getaway

A couple weekends ago three friends, Baby McSwedolish, and I trekked up to northern Michigan* for a writing weekend. It was entirely uncertain how much actual writing would get done, considering we had an adorable baby to distract us, but surprisingly we were all quite successful in our endeavors.

It didn’t hurt that we were in an absurdly picturesque setting, with no television and spotty Internets. This is the view out the back/kitchen windows, and if that’s not enough to make you want to snuggle up with your laptop and give your mind the space it needs to think and create, then I don’t know what is.

Plus, we saw an otter playing on the frozen lake.

An otter!

My winter is complete.

 

*J’adore northern Michigan!**

**People don’t use the phrase “j’adore” nearly enough.

photo friday: lean in

The holidays are a hectic time for everyone, but I’m pretty sure it was hardest on the dog. Poor Juniper–so many people coming and going and she was shuttled around from house to house as we made merry and bright. She was all sorts of tuckered out after our first stop at Swede’s parents’ house on Christmas Day, hence her using Baby McSwedolish’s car seat to prop up her block head. We weren’t sure how she was going to make it through the rest of the afternoon, especially since stop #2 included playtime with her lab-mix cousin, Olive. And she can’t not play, amirite? 

zooooommmggg, Maaaaahhhmmm…I’m so tired I couldn’t play another inch, I just need to…wait, I’m okay. I’m okay! Zoooooooom!

She soldiered on. Never underestimate the play power of a pitbull.

I’m guessing the turkey and other bits of foodstuffs people gave her probably helped.

 

photo friday: somewhere in texas

You’d think taking a 20+-hour road trip with an infant would make you want to run screaming deep into this vista, but aside from a couple of minor meltdowns, That Baby did just fine. It was Mommy who couldn’t stop asking, “Are we there yet?” in the 2700 hours it took to drive across Kansas.

photo friday: somewhere far from home

I was going through old photos from my trip to Ireland in 2012, and came across this one, which I think was taken somewhere near some sort of castle.

Which is an incredibly precise coordinate.

There’s something near a castle? In Ireland? That’s so strange.

Anyway, if I may tell you all the things I like about a picture I took myself–and I will–I’ll start with the blue, blue sky, and end with the way the water stretches out, like it’s on it’s merry way, off to have some adventures.

And that’s it. That’s all I’ve got for you today. Happy Friday, happy weekend, one and all.

 

photo friday: don’t forget the spice

 

I went to Morocco and saw a lot of spices. And Life was good. 

Sometimes I forget that I’ve done things that are really damn neat, because I get so caught up in the day-t0-day and then one day I’m looking through photos and I’m all, “Oh yeah, that’s right, I went to Morocco that one time and saw All The Spices In All The Land at the souk and I should really do more fun things like that.”

And then I get re-caught up in the day-to-day, which is not my best habit, but at least there’s a seed of adventure planted, so I’m pretty sure not all hope is lost that I’ll someday have foreign adventures again.

Plus, I’m running out of Moroccan spice mix, so really now would be a great time to go back.

photo friday: jump

You guys, I can’t stress enough how elated I was to finish the hike to the lake at Sleeping Bear Dunes. So elated that I used the last of my reserves to jump for joy, and Swede had to carry me back to the car.

Just kidding. But now that I think about it that wouldn’t have been a bad idea.

photo friday: don’t blame canada, blame my parents

That’s not actually Canada, moron.

HELLO, CANADA!* I’VE SO WANTED TO VISIT YOU! BUT I NEVER HAVE!** MAYBE SOME DAY! FOR NOW I’LL JUST HAVE TO STARE LONGINGLY ACROSS THIS BODY OF WATER*** AND YELL AT YOU!

*Actually, I’m facing the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Which is not Canada.

**True story. I’ve been all over Europe, but I’ve never been to Canada, my neighbor to the north. If my parents had made me a trust fund kid like I asked many several times, I’m positive I would have remedied this egregious mistake by now. 

***Not staring longingly, either. Pretty sure I skipping rocks badly. I mean, just look…super poor form. 

photo friday: sparkle, shine, shimmer

In case you were wondering if the rumors are true, yes, northern Michigan is rife with wineries, distilleries, and craft breweries.

This is not a bad thing.

In fact, it’s quite the opposite, particularly when you come across something you’ve never had before, namely a sparkling pinot grigio in a lovely winery with a spectacular view of Grand Traverse Bay.

Dear Sparkling Pinot Grigio,

Where have you been all my life?

You are pretty and I like you.

Sincerely,

McPolish

But as to the other rumors, that Michigan is also great lakes, great times, well, okay, well, yes, those rumors are true as well.

photo friday: this way, that way

Sometimes places can really surprise you.

For example, the other week, Swede and I were driving through the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, and if I didn’t know better, if I couldn’t feel cool autumn air every time I got out of the car, I would have sworn we were somewhere in California. We drove along the coast, the water pinging sunlight every which way from Sunday, except it was freshwater instead of salt, and at any moment, whenever we damn well pleased, we could pull the car over on the side of the road, stroll a few feet through tall grasses, and dip our feet. Or skip stones. Or just stand and take in the calm, the emptiness of a beach in fall.