We got the city to trim much of it. It was serious growth. Three feet into the street, including a nice padding of wonderful dirt and lots of huge worms. After:
Now the street is safe. Anyone can walk down it without walking in the driving lane. After:
Project complete. 
One day during spring break I went on a twenty-one mile, six hour bike ride. There were quite a few stops, like this one, with beer and snacks. I brought the choc chip cookies and veggie chips. When we were on this bridge, we offered refreshments to everyone who passed by, and this is the only guy who stopped (the girls with the flat don't count). He's the former mayor and a big reason that our town is so bike friendly, a celebrity.
I explained exactly what I wanted. I showed four excellent photos. Then I trusted, but that was a big mistake. 
I was turned away from the mirror, and when she turned me around to see it, I was shocked. I had a faux hawk. 
And it was so badly cut, with more lengths than I could count. There we two shaved areas. Some patches were about 1/4 of an inch and some were about an inch, and I'm talking about the short part. The long part was just weird. And ugly.
I had a party on day two of ugly haircut. I was so embarrassed. "Hi! Welcome! I'm Susan, and I didn't ask for this haircut!"
I looked like a pinhead with it down flat. I had to go see someone to even it out a bit, making this ugly mess my most expensive haircut ever. (That's Jack. It was his third birthday on day four of ugly haircut.)
It's only looked good once, when it dried under my bike helmet and got some waves. 
I really dislike it. I miss my hair. I had it just how I wanted it and just needed a trim. The stylist told me that she was "meant" to do hair. I say she needs to go back to teaching high school. I want my hair back.
Last night, when the pizza guy handed over the goods, he told me that my house was awesome. I agree. What's the best part about it? That I have my bank, a health food store, a regular grocery, a library return drop, the Farmers Market, and the entrance to the biking trail all within a mile and a half. Plus a bunch of fun neighbors who will go vintage clothing shopping or bike riding with me and willingly pop my corn every night when I roam the hood looking for a microwave.
(My spring break riding partner, spending some time with me before he leaves me forever for college and work and grown-up life.)
3. While walking down the street, I look down to my left to check in my rear-view mirror to see if a car is coming behind me.
6. I take my showers on the trail. (That's a joke.)
The last time I visited Rosie, I had four kids and she had two. She was living in Hoboken, and we had a grand ole time until someone got sprayed in the face with air freshener. And someone else got impetigo on the rear from all those gas station bathrooms between Missouri and NYC. And someone else had a reaction to the lobster. And someone else caught the puking flu on the way to Niagara.
Now she has four children also, because she wants to be just like me. We spent a lot of time with Nat, who was happy to play with Seb and me if her giant stuffed animals were involved.
By the second day, she let me hold her and was (strangely) calling me Mama. Whatever.
Seb had some work to do in NJ, and when he was done it was all tea parties and Barbies. One morning Nat and I were taking photos together. I was trying to distract her from what she really wanted to do, which was hang all over her mother. It took her about twenty seconds to learn how to use my camera and start taking photos all by herself. She's two.
They aren't the best photos, but she got the important stuff (Seb, my purple pants) in this frame.
It was awesome to see my sis, to see where she lives, and to understand why she needs that nanny. (No school buses! Kids in three different schools! Husband who works late! Two yr old who climbs out of and over everything! Noise!) We spent one day driving around together, dropping off and picking up, volunteering at Abby's school (where we were called beautiful girls and watched a lot of kindergarteners pick their noses), and doing errands.
It was a very short trip. On the way home, Seb and I drove the air train around the airport for awhile.
It was a fun trip. I wouldn't mind doing it again after Rosie gets rid of her cats. I had to give up breathing well for the entire weekend, but it was worth it.
I leave Isabelle alone in the minivan to go into the store for five minutes:
There I am doing my model walk:
Into a store that I love and the young'uns dislike:
Three hours later, I can be seen with a big smile and a mega juicer:
And Isabelle has devoured the groceries:
The end. By the way, the maga juicer works great!
I had to vacuum under the couch, so I rearranged the furniture. It took me just a few minutes. It is so easy to whip things around on that smooth wood floor. I wanted to try out something different, and I love it. I can now see out all of my windows. I can't get enough of the windows. You wouldn't believe how much sun comes in during the day. I soak it up, sometimes falling asleep in the warmth. Pompey does the same thing downstairs in front of his windows.
We dressed up fancy and paid big bucks. See my indigo cauliflower? I had trouble eating it because of the color. It was one part of the worst vegan meal that I've ever had. I was relieved that I had been able to squeeze a granola bar into my tiny party purse.
The veggies that I fed Mr January yesterday: daikon, beet, radish, cucumber, kale, apple, carrot, onion, asparagus. Some raw, some juiced, some cooked. The day before that: apple, carrot, kale, butternut squash, broc, beet, turnip, avocado, onion. He glows.
By the time day three rolled around, we were beat. We spent all day (Saturday) in bed. We watched a documentary on the White family of Boone County, WV. Pretty horrifying. I cheered when CPS took the newborn baby "probably because they found drugs in it". Who calls their newborn daughter "it"?? Late that evening we headed out to a new-to-us venue to enjoy the Bob Marley Birthday Celebration. It was quite barn-like, that venue. I couldn't take the music for long because my ears were still hurting from the night before.
On Sunday, day four, I finally got to meet our visitor. He's in from Reno and he's a house painting, flight training, cake decorating, martial arts instructing, tuxedo wearing, singing, trumpeting dude who used to live with a mountain lion. 
And then a short visit to Waffle House where my earrings were admired while we listened to the owner and the manager plan their Sam's Club shopping.
Best four day birthday celebration ever.
Day two was my actual birthday and a Friday. Sebastien stayed home from work, making it one of my best birthdays ever. He did the morning school run and brought me flowers (jonquils) and a dorky princess card about birds weaving ribbons and pearls in my hair. MY hair! A princess, I am not.
We went out to lunch at one of my favorite spots and then did some errands. While doing the errands, I found orange towels. I've been looking for them forever! They are a bright orange, not a darker autumn orange. I'm excited.
After lunch we went gallery hopping and saw some great art. This is one of my favorites from the art league show, but you can't really see what's going on in it. 
I also really like this sculpture, but can't figure out where I would put it. I have a painting by this artist.
Then we braved the cold and rain to go to the bookshop. I got the last signed copy of Keija's book, The Ruins of Us. Keija works at Calvin and Isabelle's school, and her novel is getting outstanding reviews everywhere. I'm looking forward to it, especially after being disappointed in literature lately.
Chocolate peanut butter ice cream and then a rest before the evening activities. We over-rested and missed the classical concert. Oh, well. You can't do everything, even on your birthday.
We met friends at an Italian restaurant for food and music. Great conversations too. The music maker sang Happy Birthday to me when we arrived. 
I was then all pepped up for our next event: Dr Zhivegas at the Blue Note.
We saw some friends, and some of those friends ended up on stage:
This concert was hilarious because of the people in the audience. There were many drunk women on first or second dates whose escorts were very, very happy while we were rather grossed out. There was one group of four women whose dancing could only be described as aerobic. I suspect that they are a group who dance together for exercise and weight loss. We were a little wary of being hurt by them. They also had on very weird 80s-type clothing. One had on a older style jean skirt and purple tights. One had on satin pants and sported a perm. All had on very sensible shoes, like orthopedic ones. I had to employ defensive dancing measures all night long to protect myself; that brought back some memories.
