Ferris wheel.

As a little girl, I used to dream of having my first real kiss in a big, rainbow-colored ferris wheel at some fair... state fair, county fair, don't matter. I remember I used to think it would be so romantic, riding to the top of the wheel into the sky (preferably at night) filled with light clouds and the ability to see for miles in all directions. I didn't have anyone in particular I wanted to share my first kiss with, but he had to be someone special. My stomach used to flip when I searched for topics we could talk about just in case the kissing didn't fit into the ferris wheel experience. The nasty corn dogs? The fireworks at the end of the night that might present yet another opportunity to lock lips? My curfew? What we want to be when we grow up? Who knows, I never got a chance to make that my first kiss locale.

Where was my first time executed? (And I say executed because that's exactly what it felt like, an execution, a process, a specific chain of events). Outside the ladies room at the Shoreview Community Center. Can you say romantic?

Stamped.

The big Minnesota get together is taking place the next few weeks and I'll be darned if I don't go at least once to check out the local talent. Sit for an hour in the Midway, heck, half an hour, and you will walk out of there feeling better about yourself tenfold. It's the ultimate activity in ego-boosting. How in the world can I be occupying the same state as some of these people? I know not.

Nevertheless, the prices to get in the fair raise each year, to the point where you spend half your money just getting in the gate. That which could be spent on turkey legs, roasted corn and Sweet Martha's cookies. Someone, whose name shall not be revealed, stole a State Fair stamp a few years ago and we utilized it for all it's glory on Saturday afternoon. Like a group of undercover CIA agents we strategically stamped our hands "so the number wouldn't show, and it smudged just a bit but you could still see the MSF letters..." Off the bus we stepped, like cattle we were directed through the front gate and our stamp wasn't second guessed; saving about $60 in entrance fees that was better spent on cheese curds and vanilla malts from the dairy building.

Appreciation.

I don't have much to say besides the symmetry in this fruit is pretty fascinating to me. It's a habit I cannot break, finding symmetry in irregular places. Tiles on the floor of sports stadiums, color-coded racks at Ann Taylor loft, and yes, even fruit. I catch myself thinking, "cool, this was done well, I appreciate it, I hope the person who created it feels satisfaction with their work." In this case, thumbs up to the big man in the sky.

Oliver : down.

It might be the people food he's given, or the fact that he chews on one side of his mouth 99% of the time, but Oliver needed his teeth cleaned professionally last week. Not one, but two, but three legs were searched for a strong enough vein to withhold the anesthesia IV. Poor dog, comes home, numb in the mouth, drooling on my arm, wobbly on his legs. If I get this worked up about my dog, can you imagine when I have the four kids I've been dreaming about?

Sea Salt Eatery.

One of Michael's uncles recommended a real great place for fresh seafood in the Twin Cities, not well known to many. It's called the Sea Salt Eatery located down by the Minnehaha Falls. Apparently it's not as well kept of a secret as I thought: the line to order was out the building and a good 75 feet into the dirt wooded area surrounding the building. We ordered our beers first (as suggested) and caught up about our day's as we slowly moved closer to the chalk board menu. Fish, oysters, calamari, you name it, they served it. I've been into seafood lately, and our little outing at the SSE will be repeated hopefully a few more times before they shut down in October for the winter season.

A little too much.

You know these guys, the ones that dress up in an outfit similar if not exactly the same color as the vehicle they arrive on. For some, it can be pulled off... you know the dude I'm talking about, driving up in their shiny black Mercedes-Benz, stepping out in a Hugo Boss suit in the same color. They can pull it off, to a "T". But this subject, talking aimlessly on his cell phone next to his mediocre green Honda Element... he cannot.

Rascals.

The one CD that has remained in my car since I first put it in the player is this - the Rascal Flatts "Still Feels Good" one. I'm constantly jamming, top down, hair blowing in the wind to their love songs, their break-up songs, and their "country rocks and we're still kicking it even though we've been on tour forever and keep coming back to Minnesota" songs. Now, ask me if I'm excited to see them at the Xcel on September 19th.

Honu.

That means 'turtle' in Hawaiian. Check out this ancient-looking one who decided to call our front yard home for the weekend. He moves as he is expected to and his shell looks hard as stone. The only turtles I've seen around here are small snapping ones, so this wise old soul seems out of place. Almost as if he belongs on an island in the Galapagos: I can only assume that adorable monkeys are eating ripe papayas in the treetops along 96.

Massage.

Gretchen West, is hands down the best masseuse ever. A full-body rubdown when it's pouring outside is one of life's simple pleasures. The rain pattering on the roof, the soft music playing, the smell of vanilla massage lotion on my skin. And these Werther's Originals? The only time I like them is after West' blissful massage sessions.

What are the chances?

The pilot light on our stovetop can only be lit by a match instead of the regular way. This is the last match in my matchbook. And I desperately wanted an omelette... the wind better not blow this baby out.

First Half-Marathon.

The ultimate challenge of willpower and determination lies at registering for a marathon. Although that distance is, at this point in my life, a little too long to consider enjoyable and worth training for, I did hear a suggestion from good ole Lance in early June. "Why don't you run a half-marathon then?" I hadn't planned on running that far, but I liked how fun and easy he made it sound. A half-marathon! In August! I was just thinking the same thing!?

Training runs, sore quads, more gallons of water than I thought possible to consume, and sooner than I expected, Saturday, August 15th rolled around. The Minnesota Half-Marathon in Lower Landing Park. The nerves I felt that morning were indescribable and the weight of my legs when I reached mile marker 11? More than one ton.

Once mile 12 was done and I saw the finish line in sight, I guess that extra reserve of adrenaline kicked in, or maybe it was the sharp contrast of going from chanting "only 11 more miles" to "less than half a mile", but I was totally high. Like, then lines of cocaine high. HIGH. And that feeling was so strong and lasted so long that for two days straight all I did was stare down at my legs and thank the heavens they're still attached.

2:20:28 - and proud of it!

Buttons.

This is one of life's many gripes. Most clothing items come with an extra button. I'm one of those people that doesn't save them because I rarely lose a button or have one fly off into the eye of an unsuspecting passerby. But when I do unluckily lose one of these little guys, boy is it hard finding something to match the others when you don't save that extra one. Thus, I've resorted to saving all my buttons and if I never end up using them, maybe I will make some sort of craft, a button birthday card, or a button picture. I probably won't but, at least I'll have all my buttons covered... I mean bases.

Energy overload.

In preparation of my first half-marathon, I read many discussion boards and forums debating the merits of energy gels. I figured I best try one prior to the actual race day and utilized a PowerBar gel in Tangerine flavor. Have you ever tried Metamucil? You know the stuff. Well pretend it was that flavor, in goo form. I shot it in my mouth and quickly washed it down with water. Off I went for a training run, 9 or so miles and halfway through I felt like my throat was going to fall out my butt. My heart was racing way faster than necessary and my stomach was doing flip-flops. I decided against using the gel for the actual race due to the fact that I would rather finish the race than pass out next to mile marker 10.

Starting early.

Will gets car stuck.
Will exits car to run home.
Will has female cousin pull him in broken truck.
Will thinks sitting in car while cousin pulls is appropriate.
Will needs lesson in chivalry.

Starting early.

Will gets car stuck.
Will exits car to run home.
Will has female cousin pull him in broken truck.
Will thinks sitting in car while cousin pulls is appropriate.
Will needs lesson in chivalry.

Height door.

Before we left Hayward, I had to get a shot of the height door. The cousins all kept track of their increasing height over the years, mostly for bragging rights among other reasons. It's a cute idea, and one I hope to start when I'm old and have a million grandkids running amok on my property.

Josie-dog.

Whenever I see a dog that is the same breed as one of my friends', I call that dog a "________"-dog. For example, Carla has a boxer named Josie; therefore, when this little one came running down the beach, I called him a Josie-dog. His real name is Roscoe and I'm not exaggerating when I say he grew a pound a day up in Hayward. Too freaking cute.

Hard core.

The sole purpose of going go-kart racing was to get kicked out. Play it safe the first couple laps and when the workers aren't watching, slam the nearest victim into the black rubber tires and drive away as you watch them helplessly struggle to reenter the track. I didn't keep count but of the 14 or so cousins that entered the race track, I'm fairly sure about 10 were kicked out. Thus, a successful execution.

A little privacy, please?

In more than one bathroom this week, the stall doors were significantly shorter than I'm used to. Short enough to peek over the door and see if it's occupied versus knocking the old-fashioned way. I was not used to this style of lavatory and the lack of privacy encouraged me to pee faster than I've peed in my life. :P

Wiggles.

Straight out of Grumpier Old Men, the four of us got in this fishing boat, rowed ourselves out to the middle of the secluded lake and proceeded to fish away the afternoon. Here is the single worm I used, after which I preferred to fish sans live bait and try to catch them with one of those expensive, shiny, bell tinkling, feather boasting, tackle pieces out of Michael's box. These gadgets must be equal to a female's plethora of makeup accessories, or jewelry pieces because apparently the more colorful and shiny these lures are, the better.

No Pi Ming.

One of my favorite parts of Hayward was being privy to accessing a members-only plot of land, many MANY acres large and home to a beautiful, hidden wood cabin on the most secluded lake I've ever seen. Think secluded like "The Beach" secluded. We off-roaded in the Dodge SUV for quite some time before we wound up the dirt road to the lake access. Many old stories and folktales retold along the way. "Tread softly....", I like that.

Good Morning.

It's a tad bit of a process waking up early on vacation to go for a run. But these legs aren't going to train themselves for a half-marathon. And, to be honest, running by Amish homes and fields that look like this one isn't all that bad.

Did I mention we drank?

Well, we drank. A lot. And rightly so because sometimes, on a slow Hayward evening when the gaggle of children are driving you just a little out of your mind, a local watering hole is the only solution. Cue the Angry Minnow. What a fitting name for a beautifully architectured spot with their own brewed beer. It's catchy & refreshing (no pun intended), so much so that I hope they open a second location and call it the Petrified Worm.

Connor.

One of many photographs stuck to the wall of Grandma Stoner's refrigerator involve hilarious snapshots into Cousin Connor's childhood presence. Does he look absolutely Willow-like here or what? I told him he MUST show these to his first girlfriend, if only for the sake of a good chuckle. :)

Fountain of youth.

I had to photograph this fountain because it looks like it's straight out of the Secret Garden. It's pools are filled with dirt and weeds and the old cement statue is chipped in some parts. It's located back in a secluded part of the woods where she is left to enjoy the serenity of a slower paced life.

A bloody buddy.

How many of these we consumed over ten days, I cannot count, by my are they good. The best one's (located at Lakeview Golf) were filled with a beef stick, a huge pickle, olives, limes, and served in a tall sundae glass. I refuse to drink a bloody mary without a beef stick involved....

Wheat fields.

Check out the local I found hiding in the wheat fields as I walked by.

Turks Inn

You know those smaller, less popular, not-very-crowded restaurants that are host to some of life's most delicious dining experiences? Turks Inn is one of them. I was blown away by the following:

-the amount of random artifacts packed in the restaurant (think old photographs, trinkets, antiques, signs, etc.)
-how unbelievable the steak filets tasted
-rice pilaf soaked in steak jus with just the right consistency
-baklava for dessert to celebrate the Stoner's 27th wedding anniversary

You have not dined in ecstasy until you dine at Turk's Inn.

Set sail.

Within an hour of waking up on our first day of vacation in Hayward, WI, Michael was hooking up the Laser sailboat and prepping it for it's maiden summer voyage. I haven't sailed very much in my life and being on that vessel with someone who truly enjoys it as much as he does is pretty inspiring.

Inconvenient truth.

The only problem with road trips during the summer is the unnecessary amount of road construction that takes place along the way. I don't think I've gone anywhere these last few months without having numerous detours, delays, and trucks with pebbles flying onto the hood of my car in front of me. I know the end result will be beneficial to those that drive on those roads, but it is a serious pain in the rear and one that I don't see ending anytime soon.

Boys of summer.

One of the coolest photography projects I've worked on came together right before we left for Hayward, WI. This is Sammers' birthday present before it was matted and framed. A pretty sweet image of some very good looking boys I know.

Twins.

We went to one of the Twins v. White Sox games a few weeks ago and there was something about being inside the stadium that was less interesting than the open outdoor air of the U.S. Cellular Field. Something tells me baseball games will be much more enjoyable once they're played at the new Twins Stadium next season. Starry nights, baseball, ice cold brews?

Hard work.

I'm a sucker for a hard worker. The sweat-dripping-in-your-eyes-and-I'm-not-done-until-it's-perfect-even-though-it's-95-degrees-out-here-and-I'm-exhausted kind of worker. I've found the perfect guy for this position. Does it get any better?

Horse and trailer.

Driving home from Tyler was exhausting to say the least. With only 5 hours of sleep and many cornfields to pass, it was hard to keep my eyes on the road since my driving partner was fast asleep. This lovely Thoroughbred pulled in front of our car and I was wide awake. I haven't seen a trailer like this in awhile and I love that this Brown Beauty got a chance to take in the full countryside view instead of through a barred window. Happiness is temporary moments here and there - and I love those.

Pancake balls.

This past weekend we ventured to Tyler, MN for their annual Aebleskiver Days which was essentially a week-long festival centered around Aebleskivers, in more obvious terms, pancake balls. They are delicious and really, any chance to get a large group of friends together for some intense bags, beer pong, and seizure-induced glow-stick dancing is good reason enough.

A large part of the town is centered around farming and everywhere you turned were older men in plaids, dark demin jeans and used cowboy boots. I imagine all of them are up at the crack of dawn, riding their combines, baling hay and such. For me, this is a bit early, but for most of these neighbors it's something closer to midday. What they do at 4:00 a.m. is anyone's guess. I only know that they're incredibly motivated about it and talk about the dawn as if it's a personal reward, bestowed on account of their great virtue.

May I offer you a nice bowl of hail?

This morning as I was working out @ the gym, I heard gun shots. I swear on my life that's what they were until the little old man in front of me hopped off his machine and rushed to the large window to peer outside. Those "gun shots" were hail balls dropping on the roof and they echoed like crazy. Hail is one of the most fascinating natural phenomenons to me, thus the reason I collected these and stuck them in the freezer. God's personal ice cubes.

Payback.

Dear Delinquents-
Thank you for exhibiting your strength and prowess Thursday evening when you tipped over one of our 600 pound lions. Not only are we impressed, but we are happily forced to step up the game we call security and property protection. Feel free to take another lion down and we will show you what we mean. As far as we're concerned, we plan on fighting fire with hotter fire.
Hope you can stand the heat,
The Hills

Torchlight.

When you're gradually increasing your milage for longer races, it is amazing how dead a sprinted 5K in the hot summer sun will make you. The Lifetime Fitness Torchlight was very fun, even better than last year's, and this time I was able to drink the free beer. There's nothing like two free beers to make you run a humid street race.

Best friends.

The last 24 hours of our trip in South Dakota, these two cows stood by one another, chewing grass and enjoying the acres of rolling landscape to themselves. They didn't move except for a few feet to find more grass. Something about them made me think they were best friends and inseparable. I'm hoping they're milking cows and won't have to leave one another to one day be someone's grilled meal. I'm usually a carnivorous eater, but I found myself hoping that, whichever place they end up, they would end up together. It was just one of those things that go through your mind. 'Best of luck', I thought.

Bonfire necessity.

"You're killing me Smalls! This is s'more's stuff! Alright, now pay attention. First you take the graham, you stick the chocolate on the graham. Then you roast the 'mallow. When the 'mallows flaming... you stick it on the chocolate. Then cover with the other end. Then you scarf. Kind of messy, but good." -Sandlot

Road trip.

Finally! A chance to get out of dodge and step off the grid for a few days. Michael and I road-tripped up the east border of South Dakota this weekend and I've never enjoyed camping more thoroughly. Hiking on bluffs, tenting in campsites, bonfires, dining with the locals, heck, even peeing in the woods. We didn't have a whole lot of time to spend on the road, but next time we will prepare for at least a week of roughing it. We are now professionals at putting up and taking down the tent, we spent maybe ten minutes doing either one.

I'm going to start saying "OK" to things more often; activities that seem maybe out of my comfort zone or a little bit different than I'm used to. The word is a key to a magic door and every time I say it I feel the thrill of possibility. Well, I'll say it to an extent; I won't be jumping out of an airplane and I won't be eating horse balls, but I will go camping in South Dakota with a handsome boyfriend and enjoy every minute of it.

Under the big top.

Family date night (+ Michael) brought us to see the newest Cirque du Soleil show, Kooza... being shown under the big striped top, smack dab in the middle of downtown St. Paul. This is my fourth show by Cirque and each time I walk away amazed and baffled at the way they perform some of the stunts. As we settled got our of our seats at the end of the show, I listened to the conversations around me, some of them humorous. I've realized that "shit" is the tofu of cursing, and can be molded to whichever condition the speaker desires. Hot as shit. Crazy as shit. I myself was confounded as shit, for how had I so misjudged that word?

Many "shits" were muttered under the breath of those of us who are unable to wrap ourselves into pretzels and meander across a rope hanging 40 feet in the air. A large amount of the acts are from far away countries and probably can't even speak our language, but... don't let that stop you from being abso-freaking-lutely amazed at the performance Cirque du Soleil puts on every single time they swing into town.

Delicious sky.

You know the kind of sky that looks like cotton candy? And you literally could pluck it out of the heavens if we were in one of those mythical movies where everything goes your way and there's always a happy ending? Those are my favorite skies. The all-time best sky I saw was when I was on a First Class flight to Phoenix, AZ (no I didn't purchase it, are you crazy?, I got bumped up).

"May I bring you a drink, Miss Hill?", the stewardess asked. This as the people in coach were still boarding. The looks they gave me as they passed were the looks I give when the door of a limousine opens. You always expect to see a movie star, or, at the very least, someone better dressed than you, but time and time again it's just a sloppy nobody. Thus the look, which translates to, "fcuk you, Sloppy Nobody, for making me turn my head." That little story is a tad irrelevant to this daily photo but... it gives it an extra layer of fluff.

Spotted: vehicle.

Out in the boonies of Champlin, I spotted my favorite car. Not my favorite color... but at least the make and model was right. On what was an otherwise mediocre day, God decided to shower me with another small dose of happiness. That trident is just hot right now.

David Sedaris.

He is my new favorite author, and rightly so. Because any man that can make you laugh so hard your latte comes out your nose at the early hour of 6:19 am should be considered one of your favorite men.

Savings plan.

Beyond stocks, investments, and mutual funds, I save change. Pennies, nickels, quarters, you name it, I save it and trade a bag-full in for bills. Michael and I walked through the maze that is IKEA to get decorating ideas, and this was the only item, out of the hundreds of products there, that I had my heart set on bringing home. At only $2.99, it reminds me of jars you would find at an apple orchard or a candy store, filled with banana taffy.

Introducing...

The newest gadget in my life. For those of you that have been privy to experience my old POS cell phone, fret no more. Sunday marked the start of a new day and I finally got a new one. The POS I had been using came from an uncle who had used it for years, you could imagine how outdated it was. The battery was shot, phone calls were dropped, I was lucky to get text messages sent and received successfully. At one point it had flared up so magnificently that I sat down to read the whole user's manual, just so that I could be angry at it and then toss the POS across the room. Who does crap like that? Me, that's who. And I will go to my grave filled with an inordinate amount of unproductive anger, but a smile will mark my face because I will feel so justified. So right. POS no more... bring on the LG Versa and what I hope is at least a year's supply of phone calls longer than 20 seconds before it shuts off.

Lil Firefly.

My summer drink of choice involves the item here before you.... Firefly Sweet Tea Vodka. No, I'm obviously not endorsed to write about them, I'm compelled to. Mix a few shots of this delicious liquid with lemonade and you have yourself a drink that not only invokes summertime memories, but streaking through the quad and up to the gymnasium as well. Drink on.

Happy Birthday, Lindsey!

Yet another birthday with a fabulous lady from Forest Lake on Thursday. She chose Benihana's in Maple Grove for our feasting activities and what an experience that was! It might have been the smoke-billowing onion train.... or maybe it was the high-flying shrimp tails.... either way this is an awesome restaurant with a dinner-theatre style meal involved. Lindsey, I wish you the best of birthdays and many more to come!

Run, Tim, Run.

If you watched the news Thursday evening, you may have seen some or all of my family. The baby deer stuck in the muck was apparently the most interesting thing happening around here. We had Kare11, WCCO, StarTribune, and Pioneer Press photographers, reporters and camera crew here. Everyone was set up down underneath the pergolas filming the rescue efforts. You know once 3 different police boats get stuck in the muck and an air boat has to be brought in to rescue the deer.... and then the other 3 stuck boats... that maybe a little help with the water level might be appropriate. Nevertheless it was an eventful day with interviews, photographs, etc.... but my favorite part? Watching reporter Tim Sherno from 5 Eyewitness News sprint with his cameraman and handfuls of gear through my backyard as if there was somewhere else more important they needed to be... this is Shoreview, remember? Nothing really happens here. :)