Sunday, December 28, 2008
Tails-A-Waggin'
Well, the snow is finally melting, and Fed Ex was (finally!) able to make it up our street this morning and deliver our Christmas packages. Thank you, everyone, for the wonderful gifts - we appreciate everything and are soooo touched by your thoughtfulness. Here are a couple shots of Dehlia enjoying her holiday gift from Uncle Jeff and Aunt Ellen. (Molly is MIA, as she was a bit too excited by the hoopla to slow down for a photo or two. Go figure, huh?)
Thursday, December 25, 2008
White Christmas
In my opinion, there's nothing like a white Christmas. Being from the Midwest, where white Chritmases are the norm, it took awhile to get used to winters in Seattle - where if snow does fall, it melts practically a minute later. Granted, if Chris and I want to see snow, we're not far from it - the white stuff sticks around in the Cascades pretty much year round. But there's something special about waking up on Christmas morning, looking expectantly out your window, and seeing the ground covered in a shimmering white blanket of snow. So, needless to say, after two holiday seasons without snow, Chris and I were more than thrilled when we looked out of our bedroom window this morning and saw that our backyard was practically glowing...
Merry Christmas!
xo, The Sorbes
Merry Christmas!
xo, The Sorbes
Monday, December 22, 2008
You Raise Me Up
A beautiful song sung by an absolutely amazing artist... This piece, along with Josh Groban's indescribable voice, opens my heart and makes my spirit sing. Enjoy. :)
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Brooding and Deep... ;)
Every once and a while, I allow myself to indulge in one of my guilty pleasures - antiquing. And, believe me, it IS a guilty pleasure.
I'm the first to admit that I can be a bit of a pack-rat. Okay, more than a bit. Actually, if it wasn't for my sweet and very neat husband, I'd be living in an apartment piled to the ceiling with wall to wall "stuff." A sentimental sap, I hate throwing things away. I tend to want to hold on for dear life to everything: cards, letters, Smurf glasses, clothes ("I might want to wear those shoes to a costume party someday" I said recently of a pair of old platform shoes from the late 90's), books, research papers, magazines, DVDs, holiday decorations... The list goes on. Even electronic equipment. "What?" I remember saying to Chris one day when I saw him boxing up our old Play Station II. "Throw away the Play Station? Are you serious?" After pointing out that he was, in fact, quite serious, I put my game face on. Sure, we hadn't touched the Play Station in years, but that was just because we'd been busy. I was sure we'd find the time to play it again. And if it was gone, we'd most certainly miss it. I tried to convince him that he'd be sorry, that throwing away such a fun piece of equipment was insane. But Chris, whose favorite machine in the house is the shredder, could not be persuaded. Biting back a laugh, he rolled his eyes and listened patiently as I argued my case. "But what about SIMS?" I begged, just a step away from breaking into the Wickey War Dance. "We can't throw it away! Puh-lease?? I'll play it, I swear. You'll see." As I snatched the game player away from my husband and cradled it protectively in my arms, I couldn't help but feeling triumphant. Seriously, I thought as I tucked it back into our storage closet. Next weekend. We'll totally have a SIMS marathon next weekend.
That was two months ago. And so far, all the Play Station has been doing is sitting in our closet and taking up space. And collecting dust.
So, with that being said, it is only on a very rare occasion that I allow myself to step off the beaten path, stop in a quirky antique or second-hand store, and root through other people's junk. But on those days - those oh so sweet days - I'm usually rewarded generously. Today was no exception.
This chair actually caught Chris' eye first. Now that I've made the delicate decision to forge ahead and pursue photography full-time, I've been looking for various props to use in my shoots. And high on that list was, yep, a chair. Luckily, Chris is as supportive as he is neat, and he allowed me to buy the chair without any type of lecture whatsoever. What can I say? We're good for each other.
So, without further ado, here's the fabulous new piece.
I couldn't resist... ;)
Brian: "For your information, Jillian is very bright and she happens to be a very talented photographer."
Stewie: "Oh, that is so lame. Every hot girl who can aim a camera thinks she's a photographer. Ooh, you took a black and white picture of a lawn chair and its shadow and developed it at Sav-On. You must be so brooding and deep..."
-- Family Guy
I'm the first to admit that I can be a bit of a pack-rat. Okay, more than a bit. Actually, if it wasn't for my sweet and very neat husband, I'd be living in an apartment piled to the ceiling with wall to wall "stuff." A sentimental sap, I hate throwing things away. I tend to want to hold on for dear life to everything: cards, letters, Smurf glasses, clothes ("I might want to wear those shoes to a costume party someday" I said recently of a pair of old platform shoes from the late 90's), books, research papers, magazines, DVDs, holiday decorations... The list goes on. Even electronic equipment. "What?" I remember saying to Chris one day when I saw him boxing up our old Play Station II. "Throw away the Play Station? Are you serious?" After pointing out that he was, in fact, quite serious, I put my game face on. Sure, we hadn't touched the Play Station in years, but that was just because we'd been busy. I was sure we'd find the time to play it again. And if it was gone, we'd most certainly miss it. I tried to convince him that he'd be sorry, that throwing away such a fun piece of equipment was insane. But Chris, whose favorite machine in the house is the shredder, could not be persuaded. Biting back a laugh, he rolled his eyes and listened patiently as I argued my case. "But what about SIMS?" I begged, just a step away from breaking into the Wickey War Dance. "We can't throw it away! Puh-lease?? I'll play it, I swear. You'll see." As I snatched the game player away from my husband and cradled it protectively in my arms, I couldn't help but feeling triumphant. Seriously, I thought as I tucked it back into our storage closet. Next weekend. We'll totally have a SIMS marathon next weekend.
That was two months ago. And so far, all the Play Station has been doing is sitting in our closet and taking up space. And collecting dust.
So, with that being said, it is only on a very rare occasion that I allow myself to step off the beaten path, stop in a quirky antique or second-hand store, and root through other people's junk. But on those days - those oh so sweet days - I'm usually rewarded generously. Today was no exception.
This chair actually caught Chris' eye first. Now that I've made the delicate decision to forge ahead and pursue photography full-time, I've been looking for various props to use in my shoots. And high on that list was, yep, a chair. Luckily, Chris is as supportive as he is neat, and he allowed me to buy the chair without any type of lecture whatsoever. What can I say? We're good for each other.
So, without further ado, here's the fabulous new piece.
I couldn't resist... ;)
Brian: "For your information, Jillian is very bright and she happens to be a very talented photographer."
Stewie: "Oh, that is so lame. Every hot girl who can aim a camera thinks she's a photographer. Ooh, you took a black and white picture of a lawn chair and its shadow and developed it at Sav-On. You must be so brooding and deep..."
-- Family Guy
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Life Is A Series Of... Jobs?
Jack of All Trades...
Up until my thirties, my life had been like a wild goose chase. Well, maybe not completely like a wild goose chase, but close enough. I was adrift - floating here and there, not really enjoying life, but not altogether hating it, either. Life, until I hit twenty-nine or so, had become a routine. It was something that I figured I just had to endure. Life happened to me, I didn’t happen to it - or so I thought.
Like most people I went to high school with, I started college immediately following graduation. With only a summer break in between what was suppose to be my transition phase from teen to adult, I trudged ahead completely nervous and uninspired. What did I want to be when I grew up? Sh!t!, I remember thinking way back then. I AM grown up now... I’m supposed to know this! But I had no idea. I took the general classes: Geography, Western Civ, Biology I and, of course, Psychology. After my first semester, I still had no idea what I wanted to do. Every time I entertained an idea - physical therapist, speech pathologist, elementary teacher - fear squeezed its way into my chest and I’d have a panic attack. Whenever I declared a major, I’d think, Oh my God... This is what I’ll be doing for the next twenty, no thirty, no forty years... No, wait, oh God, for the rest of my life! I guess you could say I had trouble with commitment.
Now, looking back at my younger self, I realize I was probably being a bit dramatic. But, in all fairness, I - like almost all college students - was under a lot of pressure. And I felt that pressure tenfold. Get good grades, but still work at least thirty hours a week! And better keep that social life up because people in the Midwest are supposed to get married near the age of twenty-two or twenty-three... Twenty-five tops! And then babies by twenty-seven! Pick a career that you’ll be happy with! And oh, by the way, pick one that you can make money at or you’re going to be in debt for the rest of your life due to student loans!
Whoa. Even now it makes me cringe.
It wasn’t that I lacked direction, ambition, or motivation - I had all of those things in spades. I knew I liked photography, coveted books, and loved to write. “But,” I was told by a few close-minded people, “those aren’t careers, they’re hobbies. You can’t make a living off those. Only a lucky few can.” And, unfortunately, I believed them - for awhile, anyway. But every major that lead to a lucrative career was, in my mind, B-O-R-I-N-G.
After a few years, I left college and tried my hand at banking. Working for a credit card company in the customer service department, I crunched numbers, recited APR quotes, opened and closed accounts, submitted credit line increases, calculated payment plans, took approximately 150 calls a day, was verbally abused by over eighty percent of the card members, and basically sold my soul each week for a paycheck. I worked there for a little over two years, and each day I died a bit inside. Luckily, my co-workers were absolutely wonderful, and that alone helped me get by. But even so, I remember thinking, This can’t be all there is to life...
Fast forward to my next job - paralegal for a criminal law attorney. Just thinking of my time at that office brings a smile to my face. I worked for the most amazing, understanding, and down-to-earth attorney you could ever meet. My co-worker was an adoring black lab who, to this day, I love just a little bit more than my own dogs. (Shh - don’t tell them.) I was literally the “Jack-of-All-Trades” of the office, and for awhile that was enough. Eventually, however, I grew restless. I didn’t mind doing legal work, but it wasn’t interesting to me in the slightest, and the legal jargon gave me a headache. The work wasn’t creative (well, creative in the way I desired), and after three years I knew without a doubt that I was not destined for a lifelong career in law.
A move to the Pacific Northwest brought me to my next (and current) career. I’ve been working as a veterinary assistant at a local hospital out here for the last year and a half. And, as you’ve probably guessed, I have found that this career is also NOT FOR ME. Again, I have been blessed with a great boss and amazing co-workers. And I absolutely love working with the animals - to an extent. Veterinary medicine is NOT all about furry-faced puppies and kittens. Yes, I’ve seen my share of puppies and kittens, received countless slurpy kisses by unbelievably cute canines, and have even had my heart melted by several beautiful pit bulls. However, I have also seen one too many sick and dying dogs come through our doors, assisted with more euthanasias than I care to remember, and have been bitten and scratched by so many cats that I’m beginning to cringe when I see one enter the clinic. (I have two scars on the inside of my right wrist that look like botched suicide attempts.) Yes, I’m completely aware that this is all par for the course and part of life at a veterinary hospital. Like the lovely ladies I work with say, “Life can’t be all flowers and sausages.” But I still feel that there has to be more to life. And this life, this veterinary life, isn’t for me...
The reason for this blog, this rambling spiel, is to say that, while none of these previous jobs were my passion, I appreciate them immensely. In fact, it is because of these jobs that I have finally FOUND my passion. And it is because of these jobs that I plan to pursue my true passion (and any other passion I might come across on the way) with every ounce of energy that I have.
My life is no longer a wild goose chase. I’ve learned that you never really grow up and that life, even after you choose a career, is anything but boring. And I’ve realized that you can make a living by following your dreams and doing what you love. For me it’s writing and photography.
What about you?
"I was just pursuing what I enjoyed doing. I mean, I was pursuing my passion." -- Pierre Omidyar
Up until my thirties, my life had been like a wild goose chase. Well, maybe not completely like a wild goose chase, but close enough. I was adrift - floating here and there, not really enjoying life, but not altogether hating it, either. Life, until I hit twenty-nine or so, had become a routine. It was something that I figured I just had to endure. Life happened to me, I didn’t happen to it - or so I thought.
Like most people I went to high school with, I started college immediately following graduation. With only a summer break in between what was suppose to be my transition phase from teen to adult, I trudged ahead completely nervous and uninspired. What did I want to be when I grew up? Sh!t!, I remember thinking way back then. I AM grown up now... I’m supposed to know this! But I had no idea. I took the general classes: Geography, Western Civ, Biology I and, of course, Psychology. After my first semester, I still had no idea what I wanted to do. Every time I entertained an idea - physical therapist, speech pathologist, elementary teacher - fear squeezed its way into my chest and I’d have a panic attack. Whenever I declared a major, I’d think, Oh my God... This is what I’ll be doing for the next twenty, no thirty, no forty years... No, wait, oh God, for the rest of my life! I guess you could say I had trouble with commitment.
Now, looking back at my younger self, I realize I was probably being a bit dramatic. But, in all fairness, I - like almost all college students - was under a lot of pressure. And I felt that pressure tenfold. Get good grades, but still work at least thirty hours a week! And better keep that social life up because people in the Midwest are supposed to get married near the age of twenty-two or twenty-three... Twenty-five tops! And then babies by twenty-seven! Pick a career that you’ll be happy with! And oh, by the way, pick one that you can make money at or you’re going to be in debt for the rest of your life due to student loans!
Whoa. Even now it makes me cringe.
It wasn’t that I lacked direction, ambition, or motivation - I had all of those things in spades. I knew I liked photography, coveted books, and loved to write. “But,” I was told by a few close-minded people, “those aren’t careers, they’re hobbies. You can’t make a living off those. Only a lucky few can.” And, unfortunately, I believed them - for awhile, anyway. But every major that lead to a lucrative career was, in my mind, B-O-R-I-N-G.
After a few years, I left college and tried my hand at banking. Working for a credit card company in the customer service department, I crunched numbers, recited APR quotes, opened and closed accounts, submitted credit line increases, calculated payment plans, took approximately 150 calls a day, was verbally abused by over eighty percent of the card members, and basically sold my soul each week for a paycheck. I worked there for a little over two years, and each day I died a bit inside. Luckily, my co-workers were absolutely wonderful, and that alone helped me get by. But even so, I remember thinking, This can’t be all there is to life...
Fast forward to my next job - paralegal for a criminal law attorney. Just thinking of my time at that office brings a smile to my face. I worked for the most amazing, understanding, and down-to-earth attorney you could ever meet. My co-worker was an adoring black lab who, to this day, I love just a little bit more than my own dogs. (Shh - don’t tell them.) I was literally the “Jack-of-All-Trades” of the office, and for awhile that was enough. Eventually, however, I grew restless. I didn’t mind doing legal work, but it wasn’t interesting to me in the slightest, and the legal jargon gave me a headache. The work wasn’t creative (well, creative in the way I desired), and after three years I knew without a doubt that I was not destined for a lifelong career in law.
A move to the Pacific Northwest brought me to my next (and current) career. I’ve been working as a veterinary assistant at a local hospital out here for the last year and a half. And, as you’ve probably guessed, I have found that this career is also NOT FOR ME. Again, I have been blessed with a great boss and amazing co-workers. And I absolutely love working with the animals - to an extent. Veterinary medicine is NOT all about furry-faced puppies and kittens. Yes, I’ve seen my share of puppies and kittens, received countless slurpy kisses by unbelievably cute canines, and have even had my heart melted by several beautiful pit bulls. However, I have also seen one too many sick and dying dogs come through our doors, assisted with more euthanasias than I care to remember, and have been bitten and scratched by so many cats that I’m beginning to cringe when I see one enter the clinic. (I have two scars on the inside of my right wrist that look like botched suicide attempts.) Yes, I’m completely aware that this is all par for the course and part of life at a veterinary hospital. Like the lovely ladies I work with say, “Life can’t be all flowers and sausages.” But I still feel that there has to be more to life. And this life, this veterinary life, isn’t for me...
The reason for this blog, this rambling spiel, is to say that, while none of these previous jobs were my passion, I appreciate them immensely. In fact, it is because of these jobs that I have finally FOUND my passion. And it is because of these jobs that I plan to pursue my true passion (and any other passion I might come across on the way) with every ounce of energy that I have.
My life is no longer a wild goose chase. I’ve learned that you never really grow up and that life, even after you choose a career, is anything but boring. And I’ve realized that you can make a living by following your dreams and doing what you love. For me it’s writing and photography.
What about you?
"I was just pursuing what I enjoyed doing. I mean, I was pursuing my passion." -- Pierre Omidyar
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Walkin' In A Winter Wonderland...
One of the things we love best about living out here are our spur-of-the-moment, hold-on-to-the-seat-of-your-pants road trips. There is soooo much to see in the PNW that, at least a few times a month or so, we grab the map, snag the camera, hop into the Jeep and just drive. We almost always end up finding something worthwhile. :)
Today, after a super-fun (and fairly early) photo shoot with Fiona Rose, Chris and I took advantage of being out-and-about at the crack of dawn and enjoyed a drive through the Cascade Mtns. We stocked up on caffeine and beef jerky (I know, I know - what the heck?!), cranked up the Christmas tunes, and high-tailed it to Stevens Pass. Such a relaxing, invigorating drive! Unfortunately, it left us wishing that we had snow shoes with us, as we passed a couple of trails that seemed to be calling our names. Maybe next time... :)
Sunday, December 7, 2008
More than a few reasons why we love living in the Pacific Northwest...
"In the vast region touched on the west by the Pacific Ocean, on the south by the California and Nevada boundaries, on the east by the Rocky Mountains, and on the north by the Canadian border lies a land of almost unbelievable beauty and diversity." --Dorothy Krell (The Beautiful Northwest)
The ocean and beach...
The beautiful scenery...
The great hiking...
Seattle and the Pike Place Market....
And last, but certainly not least, big a$$ donuts.
The mountains and snow...
The ocean and beach...
The beautiful scenery...
The great hiking...
Seattle and the Pike Place Market....
And last, but certainly not least, big a$$ donuts.
We love Seattle, the PNW, and all the beauty that this wonderful region has to offer. We appreciate this beautiful corner of America more than we can say. At long last, Chris and I have finally found our version of "Home Sweet Home."
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Reasons Why I Am Blessed...
When I sit back and look at my life - my life as it is right now - I realize that I am extremely, unbelievably, and undeniably blessed.
Blessed. Funny, but I almost have to laugh at my choice of words. I’ve never really thought of myself as one of those people who raised their hands to the heavens in devout prayer, or who opted to sit in a church pew on a Sunday morning instead of holing up at home in bed with a good book and a plate of cookies. I always thought the term blessed (and all of it’s connotations) referred to extreme religious fanatics. For the record, I don’t believe in Hell as a place, or see the devil as a hell-bent religious entity intent on stealing my soul and dragging me down into the underworld. I don’t believe that you are destined for eternal damnation because you weren’t baptized into the right church, and I most certainly deny any thought related to worshiping various archeological idols or golden gods.
Lately, however, after diving into the study of spirituality and learning to view life as more of an energetic force as opposed to a series of rigid rules and regulations imposed by a supreme being who will smite us should we stray from his "path of righteousness", I have a new understanding of the word blessed. To me, it has taken on a new meaning - and lost most of its association with religion. Or, at least, with the religious ideas that I was initially brought up with. Now, when I hear that particular word, my mind opens up to thoughts of love, prosperity, contentment, happiness, good fortune and, ultimately, being in complete integrity with our energetic creator.
Be it Source Energy, God, Buddha, or Allah... Call it what you want, but I am smitten and humbled by the purity and beauty of our origin. And, in turning on the light to this way of thinking, I am able to direct the beam at myself, and realize just how blessed I actually am.
I am blessed, first and foremost, for my husband, Chris. I am lucky in love, so to speak. I appreciate him for his heart, his open mind, his integrity, his sense of adventure... Chris has the blessed ability to love me despite my flaws. Throughout the years, he has supported me as a lover, as a friend, as a soul mate, and as an honest advisor who has provided insight into my wildest dreams. As I hope that I’ve been his teacher, he’s most certainly been mine. He’s shown me the way to love everlasting, guided me to heaven-on-earth, and opened my eyes to eternity. He is my greatest earthly affection, and because of him, my life is truly blessed.
I am grateful for our dogs, Molly and Dehlia. For their endless love, their unwavering loyalty, and their heartfelt empathy. Dogs are beautiful beings, pure and untarnished, and our girls are no exception. Our four-legged daughters provide our lives with an unending supply of joy, hope, and optimism. They are our bliss.
My life is constantly blessed by my wonderful family. Jeff, for being the best big brother the world has ever known. He has been my professor of philosophy, and my lifeline in exploring life’s ever-widening horizons. And then there’s Ellen, who, with her nurturing heart, has proven to be not just a mere sister-in-law, but a trusted friend and counselor as well. My nieces and nephews have provided me with more joy than I can possibly express: Sara, with her spunky love of life and crazy sense of humor; Laura, with her sentimental soul and heartfelt intelligence; J.J., with his endearing smile and eagerness to make others happy; and Robby, a gentle spirit who has a profound way of reading meaning into life’s deepest mysteries.
To give a complete list of all the reasons why my life is blessed would take up this entire blog. But, in a nutshell, it boils down to health, happiness, love, and abundance. And, when I sit back and look at my life - my life as it is right now - I realize that I am extremely, unbelievably, and undeniably blessed.
Blessed. Funny, but I almost have to laugh at my choice of words. I’ve never really thought of myself as one of those people who raised their hands to the heavens in devout prayer, or who opted to sit in a church pew on a Sunday morning instead of holing up at home in bed with a good book and a plate of cookies. I always thought the term blessed (and all of it’s connotations) referred to extreme religious fanatics. For the record, I don’t believe in Hell as a place, or see the devil as a hell-bent religious entity intent on stealing my soul and dragging me down into the underworld. I don’t believe that you are destined for eternal damnation because you weren’t baptized into the right church, and I most certainly deny any thought related to worshiping various archeological idols or golden gods.
Lately, however, after diving into the study of spirituality and learning to view life as more of an energetic force as opposed to a series of rigid rules and regulations imposed by a supreme being who will smite us should we stray from his "path of righteousness", I have a new understanding of the word blessed. To me, it has taken on a new meaning - and lost most of its association with religion. Or, at least, with the religious ideas that I was initially brought up with. Now, when I hear that particular word, my mind opens up to thoughts of love, prosperity, contentment, happiness, good fortune and, ultimately, being in complete integrity with our energetic creator.
Be it Source Energy, God, Buddha, or Allah... Call it what you want, but I am smitten and humbled by the purity and beauty of our origin. And, in turning on the light to this way of thinking, I am able to direct the beam at myself, and realize just how blessed I actually am.
I am blessed, first and foremost, for my husband, Chris. I am lucky in love, so to speak. I appreciate him for his heart, his open mind, his integrity, his sense of adventure... Chris has the blessed ability to love me despite my flaws. Throughout the years, he has supported me as a lover, as a friend, as a soul mate, and as an honest advisor who has provided insight into my wildest dreams. As I hope that I’ve been his teacher, he’s most certainly been mine. He’s shown me the way to love everlasting, guided me to heaven-on-earth, and opened my eyes to eternity. He is my greatest earthly affection, and because of him, my life is truly blessed.
I am grateful for our dogs, Molly and Dehlia. For their endless love, their unwavering loyalty, and their heartfelt empathy. Dogs are beautiful beings, pure and untarnished, and our girls are no exception. Our four-legged daughters provide our lives with an unending supply of joy, hope, and optimism. They are our bliss.
My life is constantly blessed by my wonderful family. Jeff, for being the best big brother the world has ever known. He has been my professor of philosophy, and my lifeline in exploring life’s ever-widening horizons. And then there’s Ellen, who, with her nurturing heart, has proven to be not just a mere sister-in-law, but a trusted friend and counselor as well. My nieces and nephews have provided me with more joy than I can possibly express: Sara, with her spunky love of life and crazy sense of humor; Laura, with her sentimental soul and heartfelt intelligence; J.J., with his endearing smile and eagerness to make others happy; and Robby, a gentle spirit who has a profound way of reading meaning into life’s deepest mysteries.
To give a complete list of all the reasons why my life is blessed would take up this entire blog. But, in a nutshell, it boils down to health, happiness, love, and abundance. And, when I sit back and look at my life - my life as it is right now - I realize that I am extremely, unbelievably, and undeniably blessed.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Bison - The Rottweiler Puppy
Puppy Fever!
A few shots from my photo shoot with the cutest puppy in the world... Bison had a rough start in life, suffering from chest-congestion / pneumonia-type symptoms when he was just under eight weeks old. Luckily, he has a super-fantastic mom who (along with the great doctors at Woodinville Animal Hospital) has nursed him back to health. Now, at almost twelve weeks of age, he's happy, healthy and enjoying life in all the wonder-filled ways that only a puppy can. :)
A few shots from my photo shoot with the cutest puppy in the world... Bison had a rough start in life, suffering from chest-congestion / pneumonia-type symptoms when he was just under eight weeks old. Luckily, he has a super-fantastic mom who (along with the great doctors at Woodinville Animal Hospital) has nursed him back to health. Now, at almost twelve weeks of age, he's happy, healthy and enjoying life in all the wonder-filled ways that only a puppy can. :)
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Something Big
"Wanna move to Seattle?"
I'll never forget the day I heard those words. Busy toiling away at my desk at the law firm where I worked as a paralegal, I was just about ready to pick up the phone and dial home when Chris burst into my office. Smiling from ear to ear, he looked like a kid who was just dying to spill the juciest secret he'd ever held.
I cocked my head, my heart beating faster by the minute. "Hey," I said, pushing away from my desk and crossing the room to meet him. "I was just about to call you. I didn't know you were stopping by..." Truth was, I was beyond anxious to talk to him. He'd had a job interview that morning, and I couldn't quite shake the feeling that something Big was about to happen. And, in all honesty, after the luck we'd had the last few weeks, we so needed something Big. I took a deep breath, determined to ignore the butterflies banging around in my stomach. "So?" I asked, trying to sound casual but unable to hide the nervous tweak in my voice. "How'd it go?"
Eyes twinkling, cheeks still rosy from the crisp autumn air, Chris grinned wider and gave me my answer. "Wanna move to Seattle?"
Ah. Something Big indeed.
From that moment on, our life as we knew it in Minnesota was over. It was good-bye Twin Cities. Hello Emerald City.
I'll never forget the day I heard those words. Busy toiling away at my desk at the law firm where I worked as a paralegal, I was just about ready to pick up the phone and dial home when Chris burst into my office. Smiling from ear to ear, he looked like a kid who was just dying to spill the juciest secret he'd ever held.
I cocked my head, my heart beating faster by the minute. "Hey," I said, pushing away from my desk and crossing the room to meet him. "I was just about to call you. I didn't know you were stopping by..." Truth was, I was beyond anxious to talk to him. He'd had a job interview that morning, and I couldn't quite shake the feeling that something Big was about to happen. And, in all honesty, after the luck we'd had the last few weeks, we so needed something Big. I took a deep breath, determined to ignore the butterflies banging around in my stomach. "So?" I asked, trying to sound casual but unable to hide the nervous tweak in my voice. "How'd it go?"
Eyes twinkling, cheeks still rosy from the crisp autumn air, Chris grinned wider and gave me my answer. "Wanna move to Seattle?"
Ah. Something Big indeed.
From that moment on, our life as we knew it in Minnesota was over. It was good-bye Twin Cities. Hello Emerald City.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
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