Summertime Happenings

As it turns out, I have little to no interest in blogging. However, since I have no other form of journaling to speak of (ADD much?) I feel it’s time to write a brief update on my life (and here my employer thinks I like writing).

Things around the Price household have heated up. Literally. We have super cool wood ceilings in our place. Except they’re not super cool. They’re not even remotely cool actually. The insulation sucks, and in response I have been sleeping like a roasted pig every night, with only a slightly cooler ocean breeze to offer relief.

First world problems.

The spring has been relatively uneventful other than a few eventful events (are you following?). We spent Memorial Day in the southlands as we headed to Baja with some friends. It's always a little sketchy driving under that "Welcome to Mexico" sign, but we managed to have a fun weekend of sunbathing, lobster eating, and people (and horse) watching. 

Other highlights of the spring involve an Angels game, dinner and a play in San Diego, some awkward dancing at a friend's wedding, and some Saturdays spent like this: 

Then it got hot. And speaking of hot, RP and I had a particularly exciting 4^th of July this year, whereupon we folded laundry and spent a couple hours perusing Barnes and Noble (I like to study the archaic species that still buys physical books). Then we had a little cookout with some fantastic friends and watched the fireworks SoCal style (on the beach at the end of our block).

The next morning, I flew to Washington to spend the long weekend with some Radfords, while RP headed to central Cali to spend the long weekend with some fish. Turns out both groups were pretty hospitable.

Kennewick was just as I left it – 100 degrees with excellent taco trucks. The weekend activities included swimming with a swarm of handsome boys (and pretty girls), practicing cannon balls while my mother critiqued my form (I’ve decided to forgo Rio 2016), a barbecue, a Mexican fiesta, a trip to the aforementioned taco trucks (sans Mom who would “never eat off those filthy trucks”), and some good old-fashioned summertime chats on the porch. It was nice to get reacquainted with the misery of running 6 or 7 miles at 6 a.m. in 85-degree weather, and the even more painful misery of chasing a weimerainer around the neighborhood after accidentally leaving the door open (that’s one mistake I’ll only make once). 

To top off a great weekend, I spent ALL of Monday in the Pasco airport, delayed 8 hours by our friends at Allegiant. Once back in LA, I waited another hour for my bag and then made it to my car, only to find a freeway closure and a 45-minute detour on my trek south. Upon arriving home (at 2 a.m.), I was a tired, angry version of the wife RP once knew and loved.

Other updates in our lives include our now concrete plans for the holiday season: Thanksgiving in Utah, Christmas in New Zealand. After spending last Christmas in a tiny Buddhist village in the middle of the Himalaya, this actually sounded like a festive option. I’ve been promised a proper Christmas dinner and even a fireplace (albeit in the middle of the Southern Hemisphere summer).

I also recently got a new calling in church teaching Relief Society (women), which is now the bane of my existence, as I truly detest speaking in front of people. It’s always frightened me, but add a pair of Sunday high-heels on my feet and a 24-hour retainer in my mouth and the sky’s the limit as to the mayhem and humiliation that may ensue.

Other than that, our San Clemente summer has been pretty quiet. So quiet, in fact, that we (read: RP) have very few things to look forward to since we finished the last season of Breaking Bad. Aside from waiting for the new season to start (pins and needles!), we really only have The Bachelorette, So You Think You Can Dance and on-demand episodes of Newsroom to keep us company. In fact, just the other night, I told RP at about 8:30 p.m. that I really wanted to just lay in bed and read F Scott Fitzgerald and he responded with, “But honey! The Bachelorette! It’s hometowns!” And we thought the bunny thing was weird.

Speaking of RP, I should state here how proud I am of his recent nutritional improvements. He not only claimed to be giving up sugar “until the 4^th of July,” but promptly went back off sugar on the 5^th (after eating his mom’s famous peach pie and some homemade peach pie ice cream and a couple chocolate chip cookies and just a little bit of a spiced brownie). He has been surprisingly dedicated, and now checks nutrition labels like they’re stock options. While he hasn’t yet given up grains and starchy vegetables (just give me another two years), his dedication has inspired some primo primal baking of my own. And after a sugar fast like his, RP even deemed my delicacies a raving “pretty good.”

In fact, he even kept his diet in check when we had lunch with Brett and Krystle at RP's beloved Phil's BBQ. RP took advantage of the occasion by getting revenge for my Instagram #rickholdsbabies series. Ok, I confess, I'm not a natural. 

Signing off, til the next time I feel the need to write up a catch-up-word-vomit post.

Xoxo. 

We Took a Crack at the Shack

Did you know that springtime is absolutely lovely in California? Me either. Mostly because I spent the bulk of my free time working on a tri-plex -- a building which I felt lukewarm (at best) about anyhow.

When we bought the place last fall, RP had to talk me off a ledge (or rather out of tears) every time I entered the apartment I was about to call home. Despite being a cool 200 feet from the beach, the apartment we RP decided we'd move into was old, dingy, and by the looks of it, inhabited by no one but 20 and 30-something single males for four or five decades. 

Behold: 

It was pretty tragic to say the least.

It also demanded just about all of our free time to devote to cleaning, repairing, cleaning, interviewing contractors, cleaning, purging, cleaning, etc. In fact, for about six weeks, my home looked something like this: 

I'm now happy to report, however, that I now actually enjoy coming home. In fact, I kind of love our little beach shack. It's amazing what new carpet, wood floors, new paint, two completely renovated bathrooms, new baseboards, new doors, new fixtures, and new kitchen cabinets will do for a place.

Not to mention a whole lot of credit card charges labeled "One Kings Lane."

Note the absence of Bedroom 2, as it currently empty aside from an air mattress and a few orphan boxes. 

A weekend in San Clemente, anyone? 

Spring Break: Price Family Edition

Remember how our last vacation made us kind of want to crawl into a hole and do nothing for about a year? Well, we weren't about to make that mistake again (at least not for another few months). That's why we were thrilled when Mom and Dad Price made us an offer we couldn't refuse -- a week's stay on the North Shore of Oahu.

Color us excited (and super tan). Our week in Hawaii was all kinds of fun, filled with swimming, hiking, surfing, jumping off rocks, eating macadamia nuts (an inordinate amound by any standards), snorkeling, running, and going to sleep by 9 p.m. (sunshine and sea turtles really take it out of you).

RP even celebrated a birthday while we were on the island, although you'll need to confirm that with him. As it was, I didn't see much of my husband, although rumor (and a few photographs) have it that he was indeed on the trip. He just happened to spend most of it out among the jellyfish, coral, and sick sick waves of the North Shore. He did, however, allow us to have a little party for him. Much to his excitement, we even decorated for the occasion, and topped off the celebration with a Chocolate Haupia cake from Ted's Bakery.

RP's favorite part of his birthday? Probably his morning surf with Brian. Old habits die hard, and they managed to squabble with the locals in the lineup.

Speaking of Brian, we all got to spend some quality time together since he's currently living on the island. While he and RP scheduled regular surf dates, I had no problem being the third wheel when shrimp was involved. They're just so cute together.

RP returned the favor and crashed MY lunch date with Libbie:

We did manage to pull in SOME culture while we were there, touring Pearl Harbor on a sunny Hawaiian morning, and stopping at the Pali lookout on our way back North. Even RP enjoyed it, mostly due to the fact that the surf was small that day.

Note that I wasn't the first Radford of importance on the island:

We kept ourselves busy, but I was happy as a clam just going to the beach everyday. We managed to swim with sea turtles, surf the North Shore, swim underneath the Weimea waterfall, jump off a 30-foot rock in Waimea Bay (evidence is below, circled in red in case you don't believe me), snorkel among the fishies, and relax on the sand -- in style.



On RP's last surf of the trip, he broke the tip of his board. He concluded that the sacrifice was worth it. I thought maybe it would mean him cutting his surf session short. No dice. Five minutes and a half a roll of duct tape later, he was back in the water.

 Luckily, I found my own company:

Not to mention a whole bunch of fantastic Prices:

Aloha oe, Hawaii. Until we meet again.