It’s official, I’m turning into my mother and father. In many ways, actually, but one way in particular seems to be staring me straight in the face …
Coffee.
Growing up, my parents were addicted to coffee. Mom still is, I think. As soon as I stepped off the school bus at the end of the day, one of my chores was to turn on the coffee pot. “START COFFEE” the note read in all caps. Dad would drink an entire pot of coffee after work. No joke, he carried a thermos with him on the lawnmower. He wasn’t any type of coffee connoisseur … he just liked it strong, with cream.
As for my mom, she has more of a refined taste. She likes the stuff that smells so good you’re tempted to eat the beans straight out of the freezer. She buys coffee at those delicious little stores in the mall … the stores only coffee lovers have time to stop at. She totally has a “World’s Best Mom” coffee mug somewhere … I know it. Between that and a purple sweatsuit (yeah I said it, sweatSUIT) … those had to be the two best worst Mother’s Day gifts we ever gave her.
And for me, well, it took 27 years for the addiction to begin. I made it through college and a whole-bunch-of-other-stuff with a complete aversion to the taste. But now, you all know the coffee place I’m talking about … there’s basically one on every corner of America … I haaaaaate you for creeping into my life.
There are days when I’ll be a super good wife and deliver Tommy’s favorite mocha to his office in the morning. Today was a super-good-wife-day, and I decided to try something a little different. I totally eavesdrop on everyone else’s order each time I’m standing in line, and last week I happened to hear, “skinny latte.” What in the bananas is a skinny latte?? So I went home and researched it. Basically, it’s a marketing term used to make customers feel, well, skinny … but really, you just spent $3 on a cup of hot water, with foam. It’s very Real Housewives of Milwaukee’ish, which makes my stomach hurt a bit. For those of you who know the lingo, it’s actually a latte made with nonfat milk and sugar free syrup. Why not? I’ll give it a try, I thought. It could be the next best thing. “Tall skinny caramel vanilla latte extra hot please,” I said to the barista today, feeling like a total sucker. As I walked out to my car with Tommy’s delicious calorie-filled drink in one hand, I took a sip of my 90-calorie cup of … ick. Now I know. Not only does it smell like fake sugar, it also TASTES like a hot pack of Splenda. This is what I’ve concluded: Anything less than 100 calories probably causes cancer, so stick with the things that taste good. They’re natural.
Today, I thought I’d post a couple photos of just a small part of Casa de Gardner (that’s our home). Married life means, the wife gets to decorate and the husband can’t complain. I remember the days when I stopped by our now-home and Tommy was eating Subway in his lawnchair while watching his 12-inch TV, stacked on a Rubbermaid. Gone are those days, my dear.
As a wedding present, my mom and her husband graciously gave us some money to help decorate our walls. We decided to use that money to make three 30×30 canvas wraps out of three photos from our San Francisco honeymoon. They’re not necessarily my three favorite shots from our trip, but they are my three favorite memories.
The Golden Gate Bridge is a world-renowned landmark, recognizable to pretty much anyone. And although it was super foggy the day we took a boat ride under it, I wouldn’t have wished it any other way. As for the redwoods and the Half Dome, all I did was click the button on my camera. God created these spectacular, amazing views, and I’m so thankful to have the memories now part of our home.
That’s all for today … back to editing! Check back soon for more pre-holiday photos. 🙂
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