Valentine's Day

Hmm, maybe I'm losing my touch as the apostrophe police, diluted down by the Australian relaxed attitude towards the apostrophe. After 2 years of seeing "egg's 4 sale" and "wall repair's" advertised on high-quality, commercially produced signs, I might have been a little desensitized. That's why, when writing out a greeting on Feb. 14th, I found myself faced with 3 options.
A day belonging to the valentine, Valentine's Day.
A day belonging to all valentines, Valentines' Day.
A day of valentines in general, Valentines Day.
(and has anybody else noticed that it is abbreviated VD? Coincidence?)

My ponderings were cut short in the morning of the day in question by my preparations to make this a truly memorable (if not romantic) day.

First, and this is important, Kris got up and did the dishes. A gift from her to me, I like to think. Then I got up and got ready for a triathlon. Yes, another one. No, I'm not getting any better at swimming -- quite the contrary.
This race was held in fresh water, and warm enough that I wasn't able to use the wetsuit. Not that I needed it to keep warm, but I have become reliant on the suit and saltwater to keep me somewhat more bouyant, and without those two aids, it was the worst swim ever. Kris has videos of the lifesavers, after everybody else is out of the water, trying to keep themselves amused while I inched nearer the finish. I am more and more appreciative of whoever named this stroke the crawl, as that seems appropriate.
I thought that the bike and run had gone okay, but the clock said otherwise. Cursed technology.
All the while, Kris has been absolutely starving. She declined by polite offer of a tube of Gu, but was sitting at the finish dreaming of an omelette. It was a late-starting tri, and by the time my race was done, and the elite runners were in, and the spot-prizes had been dished out, and the medals awarded, it was 4:30, and Kris was ready to gnaw off her own hand. Or mine.
A snack bar behind the seats of the car saved me from being savaged, but we were still bitterly disappointed that the restaurant that serves my new favorite dish, Fish on Fire, wasn't open yet. Instead, we returned home and, while I tried to unsuccessfully to scrub off the race number, Kris made huevos, trying to build up energy.

After all, we would need our strength, for it was only 16 hours after we got done eating that we needed to pick up the moving truck. And we had yet to pack...

Happy Valentine's' D'ay'!

She's Baaaaack!

Straight from her recent tour of Sydney, Honolulu, San Francisco, aaaaaand Elmore, we welcome back to Perth...Kristin!

The travels went well, but on the return home, there is always something that doesn't get done. Anticipating her return, I had a clean kitchen, all the laundry done and folded, and even shaved off my whiskers. But I am far from perfect. I feel like I let her down. You see, I hadn't - quite - emptied the pantry of all food.

I had worked hard, working my way through stuff that requires actual cooking (black bean lasagna, anyone?), but was still left with couscous, a can of beans, some sweet chilli tuna, a jar of cranberry sauce, and the title-holder world-record worst puffed rice wafers ever. (I have years of experience with rice-based diet foods in various sizes and shapes, but these are MUCH less appetizing than the corn starch packing peanuts.) Anyway, I could tell by the look on Kris' face that she had expected more of me. I hate the disappointment.

But I know what you're all thinking -- you're wondering about Superbowl coverage in Australia. Well. For the first time, it was aired live on terrestrial TV (and for the first time, an Aussie was participating -- coincidence?). The game was great. They showed some commercials, which the commentators really did not understand ("They seem to really love their Dorito's over there" said one puzzled announcer). What more could we ask for?

Intelligent commentary. I was hoping to never say this, but the commentary from Aus made John Madden seem like a genius. Really. The only thing they had a clue about was punting, and that was pretty limited in their knowledge. The best play by play comments were about the halftime show ("With a new album hitting the shelves, The Boss won't just open with one of the old favorites" and whatnot). Furthermore, since the Aussie on the Cardinals is the punter, almost all of the dialogue focussed on the kicking game.

I will say this, however. Watching the Superbowl in 101 degree weather sure makes that cold beer taste great. And I was so absorbed in the game, the first I've watched in 2 years, that I even ate two of the rice cakes.