In a couple of hours, we're taking the kids to a New Year's Eve Party (at night). No doubt, this will be yet another unmitigated disaster to add to our ever-growing pantheon of bad child raising decisions. But, I comfort myself by the knowledge that at least we'll have lots of good stories to tell their significant others when they are older.
The Barefoot Contessa mac and cheese is about to go in the oven, the short ribs are coated in saucy/meaty goodness; and there's even some peanut butter blossoms to bring along for the heck of it. Maybe the food will help them forget about the kids.
Without further ado, the year in review.
January 2010 - five year anniversary post transplant and Jordan's 5th birthday.
February 2010 - the worst series of blizzards I've ever had to deal with. Solo. Jeff is still hearing me complain about this. But, while he tunes me out, someone higher up there was listening to me. Ain't no snow in my neighborhood anymore, thank you very much.
March 2010 - I turned 30 something and looked back fondly on YOUTH, personified. Hi Jason!
April 2010 - Jeff and I took our first vacation ever away from the kids. Grandma H watched them like a hawk.
May 2010 - Bolder Boulder! My first 10k race. Look how smiley I am! Must be that crazy altitude.
June 2010 - Jordan graduates from kindergarten, and I manage to destroy several forests worth of kleenex during the ceremony.
July 2010 - Miss Mina turns four, and we decide we're moving to Bermuda. Not exactly in that order.
August 2010 - wrapping things up. Last day of short lived "return to work," and lots celebrating with friends.
September 2010 - House hunting in BDA and the big move.
October 2010 - Welcoming the container with our furniture; and adjusting to life on the rock.
November 2010 - a double dose of Thanksgiving; and a very fun trip back to the US.
December 2010 - Our first Bermudian Christmas. The good, the bad and the ugly.
And the rest of this is totally random because I felt like it.
We aren't the only ones crazy enough to run off to another country:
moving to Paris for a year Oh happy news.
wall of teapots from bluepoolroad
And this is the car we drive. I did not know this until after we purchased the car. After I got over my initial mortification, I have since learned to embrace the "mood speakers" which thump ominously on the bass.
This cracked me up.
profanity alert for those of you letting your children read this blog.
metrodad, quoting Alex Balk.
Go to the goddamn grocery and get a steak. Yes, the grocery. A little ammonia is not going to kill you. You want to be all fancy and grass-fed and environmentally conscious, go ahead, I don't give a shit, just get a fucking steak. Ribeye is good. And, yes, bone-in. Schmuck. Take the steak home. Get a big-ass frying pan and put the shit on the stove, cranking the heat up as far as that fucker will go. Take a shitload of salt—rocksalt, none of that fine-grained crap here—and toss it around the bottom of the pan. When the pan is hot as all fuck—it should scorch the shit out of your finger if you're stupid enough to touch it—put the fucking steak on there. You can crack some pepper on the top of the steak as the bottom is searing, but don't even talk to me about garlic or onion powder or COMPOUND FUCKING BUTTER, asshole. This is steak, all you fucking need is salt and pepper. After a bit (3 minutes for pink, 5 for cooked good), flip that shit over and do the same fucking thing you just did with the other side. When you're done, sling that shit on a plate. Beringer's 1996 Cabernet Sauvignon Napa Valley Private Reserve makes an absolutely delightful accompaniment, particularly if you've taken care to let it breathe a bit before quaffing. Also, make some fucking potatoes, because that's what you eat with a fucking steak. God, sometimes I just want to smack the shit out of you.
My last bad pic of 2010
Happy New Year everyone! May the road rise to meet you in 2011.