My husband and I had big plans for our anniversary last month. Well, big plans considering we are on a budget and have two kids at home, and jobs to go to the next day and. And. And.

We’d watched Blood Into Wine, a documentary about winemaking in Arizona and had planned to buy a bottle or two and spend our anniversary weekend at Timberline Lodge. We’d read, hike, dine, and sip our fancy-schmancy wine while soaking up the 1930s WPA architecture.

In actuality, the lodge was booked. Our anniversary fell on a Tuesday night. Childcare was complicated. We had a fantastic, spur of the moment dinner out but our fancy wine stayed home. We were waiting for a special occasion.

Occasions came and went. A concert on a lawn. A picnic. A beautiful weekend. But the wine remained corked.

I remembered a story I’d heard on This American Life. I wish I could find the link. In brief, it’s about a couple who receive an expensive bottle of champagne for their wedding and never drink it because they’re saving it for a special occasion. Years go by and the wife dies. The husband then decides that his gift to people will be a nice bottle of something and this story so they don’t make the same mistake. Moral: Every day is a special occasion.

So one night, in the middle of the week, after the kids were in bed we opened our fancy wine and watched Firefly.

The end.

So, does a person’s vacation start on Friday when they’re off work? Or on Monday when you don’t have to go into the office? Whatever the case, I’m on vacation this week and I could really get used to it.

The kids and I kicked off our Week of Fun with a little car show. Admittedly, it’s kind of weird to spend a day of your vacation where you work, actually taking photos for work. But we saw some cool old cars.

Oh, I love old cars.

I love their colors, their chrome and their curvy bits. I love their nostalgia, their leather and their irresponsible lack of fuel efficiency. Behold:

Our Week of Fun continued today with housecleaning. Oh, the glamour.

If my eyes are a little red and puffy today it’s only because this weekend I went to see Les Miserables on stage in Portland and I. AM. RUINED.

My aunt and I go to The Theat-ah (pronounced in a grand Transatlantic accent with raised eyebrows) every few months to see the traveling Broadway shows and I’d been looking forward to Les Mis for months. This time I prepared by reading the book, but I didn’t realize how long it was and started too late, and according to my Kindle I’m only 22% finished.

Anyway, we were late getting to the theater (an hour away) but luckily they didn’t wait until intermission to seat us and we were seated on the aisle so we didn’t have to upset anyone. If we would have been in the middle of the row, I would have waited until intermission instead of going through the humiliation of unseating everyone and being shushed and apologetic.

The production was fantastic. I bought a t-shirt. I cried like a baby and kept hoping they wouldn’t turn the lights up too soon at the end because I am a really ugly crier.

Souvenirs

Unluckily, however, I missed my favorite part when Fantine sings I Dreamed A Dream. For the last 24 hours I’ve consoled myself with downloading multiple versions of the song from iTunes. Here are my favorites, so far.

Patti Lupone, live in concert. She’s the original Fantine from the London cast. Patti Lupone could sing the alphabet and I’d be mesmerized.

Michael Crawford. Even though this is a song written for a female part and even though I generally prefer women’s voices, Michael Crawford is ah-mazing. He’s THE PHANTOM, after all.

Glee Cast. It may sound cheesy, but when you consider that the two women singing in this version are Broadway powerhouses (Lea Michele: Spring Awakening; Idina Menzel: Wicked, Rent) it all makes sense. Plus, they sing it as a duet which is really lovely.

Susan Boyle. I know, I know.

If I could find a version of this song with Barbra Streisand, I would be in heaven.

I occasionally get photos from clients showing me how they’ve framed their portraits or where they’re displayed in their house. But rarely do I get the chance to witness the actual gifting of one of my paintings.

Remember the painting with 21 dogs? Well, the client commissioned it as a gift for her parents’ 50th wedding anniversary. The whole family went on a cruise to Alaska and I’ll be darned if she didn’t take that huge painting ALL THE WAY TO ALASKA, onto a ship and waited until the last day on board to present it.

I think that’s pretty cool.

One of my favorite parts of a painting is at the point when the the image first starts to take shape. It might be early on when I’m masking off the white areas with masque pen; (my daughter calls it mas-KWAH pen, and now, so do I.) It might be when I’m dredging color through the background wash and see a particularly cool bloom.

It’s the point of every new painting that holds such possibility I feel I might explode.

I had a teacher tell me once that it’s not the destination, it’s the journey. In my painting, that is certainly the case.

I capture most of my progress photos with my phone, which in turn show up on instagram. But if you’re not an IG’er, you can now find them on Flickr as well where I’ve started a new set called Works In Progress.

My sister arrived from Arizona this weekend, bearing the gift of Gaga.

I was singing along with Hair in the car yesterday and thought about all the characteristics that my personality does, in fact, share with my hair.

• beige
• unruly
• mousy
• wild
• conditioned
• tangled
• dull
• tempermental
• stubborn
• dark
• frantic
• splintered
• just as likely to be up, as to be down

Damn it, I AM my hair.

So, how ’bout it? Are YOU your hair? Or NOT? Blog about it and link back or comment below. I wanna know.

I’m a collector.

When I was a kid, I collected rocks, feathers, shells and stamps, among other things. As an adult I collect nutcrackers and handbags.

And Disney pins.

Do you know about Disney pins? If you do, then you know they’re addicting. If you don’t, then please don’t click on that link because I don’t want to unleash this affliction upon you.

It’s too late for me, but you can save yourself.

My mom, sister and our children also collect pins, though to a far lesser and more sane degree. A few years ago, my mom asked me to come up with a way to display pin sets in the grandkids’ “bunkroom” at her house. I painted these fun watercolors scenes and then we stuck the pins into a foam core backing.

Disneyland Train

Main Street Station

The Rooftops of London

Flying to Neverland

I hope my kids are never too old for Disneyland. I’m sure not.

I’ve heard about people who live in New York City and have never visited the Statue of Liberty…which makes me feel better because I’ve lived in Salem, Oregon for 10 years and have never been to Schreiner’s Iris Gardens. SHAME ON ME.

Last week though, the kids and I took advantage of a sun break (a bonafide meteorlogical term in the Pacific Northwest,) took our sweatshirts and our camera and decided to check it out.

Sometimes I just like to go somewhere pretty, you know?

The kids kept their bickering to a minimum with the bribe of a Slurpee dangling before them. My daughter asked to take some photos and I took a deep breath as I watched her juggle my camera precariously in her little hands. My son, who’s never separated from his ball and glove, was disappointed that he had to leave his baseball in the car, but I had horrific visions of squashed irises. I let him keep the mitt on.

We saw some amazing, inspiring color; giggled over the names of the iris varieties (Millenium Falcon) and even spotted a baby bunny in some delphinium.

In typical Oregon fashion, it started raining and hailing seconds after we left the parking lot.

So maybe you don’t think your guy is the artsy type, but consider all the things that he does, or loves, that would make great, sentimental art subjects.

I bet you could make him cry.

His childhood home

His best friend

His hobbies

His vacations

His toys

His peeps

Now taking orders for Father’s Day art gift certificates!