12 paws and frogs

The Promised Land

2010-08-19T02:06:00.000-07:00

The Eastman Family Car and Trailer -- 1941

In 1941 the Eastman Clan -- a young father and mother and their 10 children -- left good ol' South Dakota and headed southwest to the promised land -- Los Angeles, California.

My Mom was one of those 10 children, but she was just one year old at the time and has no recollection of the trip. My Aunt Helen, however, who's just a tad bit older than Mom, still has vivid memories of the trip to Los Angeles and their first night in their brand new three bedroom, one bath home:

"It had a toilet with running water! And that first night, all us kids flushed it over and over until Dad finally came in and told us enough."

What a cute memory. Children really are delighted by the simplest of things, which I think we've somehow forgotten in today's society.

A few years after the Eastman Clan settled in, baby #11 was born. And with the birth of my Aunt Bea, the Eastman Clan was complete. Having lots of Aunts, Uncles, and Cousins really made growing up a lot of fun!

Life is good.

The Undeniable Sexiness of Thongs

2010-08-13T11:49:00.000-07:00

T. G. I. F.

It's the weekend, and the first thing on my to-do list is to shed my conservative side. No more mundane business wardrobe for me -- it's two days of sexy tees, tight jeans and my favorite thongs. Hubba, hubba!

Thongs make me feel sexy, even at the ripe ol' age of 43! I still like showing a little skin, and I don't think Mr. Paws minds -- pretty sure he like thongs, too -- on me, NOT him.

My collection of thongs can't be rivaled -- the array of styles, the vibrant colors, fun patterns, and some pairs even tout designer labels. Having a large variety of thongs does tend to make the selection process a little more difficult, though. There's really an art to choosing the perfect pair for whatever the occasion may be -- Poolside barbecue and you're wearing white linen shorts, or maybe an evening out at a club, and you've painted on your skinniest of jeans . . . so much to consider, right Ladies?

I'm not quite sure what the age cut off is for wearing thongs (My 26-year-old daughter would say I should have been cut off years ago), but until the thong police hunt me down, and strip me of my thong-wearing rights, I'm going to continue buying and wearing them proudly.

In honor of all the fabulous forty somethings out there, I'd like to share a pic of me wearing my favorite pair. But before you scroll down, please make sure the kids aren't in the room. I don't need the real police paying me a visit.

Okay, all clear?

My favorite pair of thongs -- they're silver and shimmery, and I love 'em!

Happy Friday!

Which pair of thongs will you be wearing this weekend?

The Art of Love

2010-07-27T22:40:00.000-07:00

My husband may not tell me how much he loves me as often as I'd like, but he sure does show me . . .

A few days after I took these pictures at the Huntington Library in Pasadena, I came home to find each of them encased in a beautiful dark wood, modern frame, all three hanging perfectly in a vertical display.

Cotton Candy

Serpent

Life

"You're a talented photographer," he said. "These pictures are beautiful . . . they're art."

If that's not love, then I don't know what is.

I'm a lucky girl . . . And, yes, Love is Blind!

I Married A Stormtrooper

2010-07-21T01:55:00.000-07:00

On July 21, 2004, exactly six glorious years ago, I married a Stormtrooper. Now, I know what you're thinking, and, yes, the Ewoks did kick the crap out of the Stormtroopers, but not my hubby -- Princess Leia kicked the crap out of him.

: )

In all sincerity, my hubby's a great guy, a man's man, and he's as humble as they come -- he'd never, for a second, even consider bragging about his Stormtrooper #2 role, in fact, he's probably gonna kill me when he reads this blog . . . Wait a minute, I just thought of something: If he does try to kill me, he might opt to use the laser gun, and that would be okay, because really, how great of a shot could he be? A few teddy bears were able to annihilate an army of Stormtroopers with lots of laser guns, using just a few over-sized slingshots and rocks. Hmmmm, we've got rocks in our creek . . .

Despite my Stormtrooper jokes and all the years of poking fun, and refusing to have the hubby's Star Wars - Return Of The Jedi memorabilia adorn our walls . . . despite all that, I do think it's really cool that I married a Stormtrooper.

For your enjoyment, Honey, I've attached a clip of the Speeder Bike chase scene.

And Happy Anniversary, Babe. I love you more than life itself, and Luke! : )

The Strength of A Woman

2010-07-20T10:58:00.000-07:00

I read a post recently, wherein the author noted several facts, suggesting women are physically the weaker sex. The author also touched on the mechanical differences of a woman's and a man's brain, but never once suggested that women are less intelligent -- whew! thank goodness for that. I didn't disagree completely with her points of view, but to be honest I didn't like reading them. At five feet tall and a hundred pounds soaking wet, I think I've just about had it with people determining what I can and cannot do.

Since my blog is mostly about gratitude, appreciation for the good in people, and, in general, just a bunch of happy random thoughts, I want to hear what women of all ages CAN DO, physically, emotionally, and intellectually.

I'm a huge fan of women; we are incredible beings. And I am happy to be one.

Here's a photo capturing a recent "can-do" moment of a woman near and dear to my heart. Please share a personal "can-do" moment, picture, or story via e-mail, www.lovnmylife1966@yahoo.com (please copy and paste for now -- I need to figure out how to link the e-mail address), or leave a comment -- love to include your experiences, or those of a loved one, family member or friend, in this post.

Choose to Inspire

My girlfriend "Nae," the Fisher-Woman, posing

with a thirty-five pound Halibut she caught last week in

the waters off the Southern California coastline.

You're next . . .

In Search of Happy Fiction

2010-07-12T17:34:00.000-07:00

"12 Paws and Frogs" will be on hiatus for the remainder of the week, as I redirect my energy toward writing a little "Flash Fiction" story for my daughter's blog, L.A. Birdie's Laugh @ Life. My deadline is bright and early Friday morning, and I have yet to write down one word, probably because the story is supposed to be happy -- no death, destruction, or personal suffering, which happens to be my forte. So to encourage the flow of happy creativity, I shall force myself to sit leisurely in the garden for a serious session of daydreaming.

Wish me luck!

From the "gratitude" archives of my life, I'll leave you with one happy thought to get you (okay, mostly me) through the week. . .

One is never too young or too old for a sing-a-long.

Father's Day 2010 - song performance by my granddaughters

Mia (1 year old) and Alana (2 years old), my daughter Ashley, my parents, and me.

Life is good!

50th Anniversary Results

2010-07-02T01:55:00.000-07:00

First of all, I want to thank everyone who sent my parents a little love via comments; you are all so wonderful! While they were reading the blog, you could actually hear a pin drop, complete silence. (I was crying the whole time; it's been an emotional few days.) Both Mom and Dad started crying, and my Dad kept saying "this is beautiful." They loved all the comments. They were all fantastic and loving tributes. Even a couple of my close friends, who have never even met my Mom and Dad, left comments. (I love you T.R. and D.L. for that, thank you!) Cece, my mother-in-law, left a comment, and my mom started crying even more. I figure Cece's comment stood out because my mom knew she made the comment to honor them and me. All parents want to know is that there is someone else out there for their children to rely upon, someone besides them for their children to love. Thanks, Cece, for giving them that reassurance.

To all of our family and friends, you can't even imagine the feelings that Mom, Dad, and I felt tonight. Dad may be on Hospice, but his energy and love for life surely doesn't reflect it.

I've cried a lot these past few days, and I've read the blog I wrote over and over...not because it's great writing, but because it's true, and I really do love my parents. It's scary thinking that there may not be many more anniversaries for them, but I can certainly pray for a miracle.

As a recommendation to each of you, if you have the time to learn more about your parents' lives, please do so ASAP. Sometimes life catches you off guard! : )

Mom and Dad's 50th Anniversary Dinner

Dad, the hubby, Jim and Debbie.

Having fun at dinner????

Mom, Dad, Michelle, Dustin, and Sydney.

The triplets. My Dad, my son Ricky, and Dustin, my nephew.

Mom, my son Ricky, me, and Dad.

Mom and Dad smooching - circa 2010.

Mom and Dad smooching - circa 1960.

All I can wish and dream for is a 51st wedding anniversary. Cancer really sucks!

But...life is still good.

50 years of Marriage, Oh My!

2010-06-29T17:30:00.000-07:00

Fifty years of marriage, HALF A CENTURY. . . Can you even imagine being married to the same person that long? Or better yet, loving the same person that long? In two short days, on July 1, 2010, my parents, aka "The Bickersons," will have realized this unimaginable, practically unattainable goal.

When The Bickersons first met in high school, I bet they never even imagined getting married. Oh, I'm sure Mrs. Bickerson was like every other young, love-struck girl, who writes her name using his last name, and I'm sure Mr. Bickerson played it cool like guys usually do, when, in fact, he was probably head over heels for Mrs. Bickerson. But whatever games they may have played, each of them knew this was the one, the one relationship that would last a lifetime.

Over the past few weeks, Mr. Bickerson and I have been going through all the family photos, and it's been so much fun learning about The Bickersons' lives. They truly had a lot in common: they each loved to dance, they both had great fashion sense (especially in the 1950's), they adored animals and had lots of pets throughout their lives, and they LOVED cars. To coincide with our stroll down memory lane, Mr. Bickerson also taught me how to scan old photos, which is how this story came to life.

A Couple that Plays Together,
Stays Together. . . for 50 Years!

The Bickersons, my Mom and Dad, circa 1960 at
the Porsche Time Trials. Such a cute, stylish couple.

Mr. Bickerson, my Dad, the official timer.
Hate to say it, Dad, but with the cig hanging
out of your mouth, it's hard for me
to believe the "official" part.
Maybe Mom fell for that story, but not me.

Mrs. Bickerson, my Mom, behind the wheel.
Feisty little thing!
Now I know where I get my love for cars.
Cool helmet and shades, Mom.

And . . .

The Big Day - July 1, 1960
I love how my Mom's so casual with her arm
draped over my Dad's shoulder.

Mom and Dad,

I'm so thankful for the time we've had together. You have taught me a lot about true commitment, and the importance of being your spouse's best friend. (And I finally got it right.) Enjoy your day, and please know that if I could have July 1 changed to "The Bickersons' Day," I would.

PS - I know tradition states that "Gold" is the gift for a 50th Wedding Anniversary, but I think in contemporary times, the gift is a Blog . . . and dinner, of course. See ya at 6:30.

Love,

Artsy-Fartsy in NYC

2010-06-09T00:59:00.000-07:00

The hubby and I have been married for almost six years now, and during that time, he's planned all of our vacations and booked every hotel. He even planned our entire wedding. I have to admit I've been completely spoiled, and I absolutely love it. Never a travel worry have I. He simply tells me where we're going and when, and I show up with my bags packed. The Bellagio hotel in Las Vegas, the Beverly Hills Montage Hotel, and the Plaza Hotel in NYC are just a sampling of the fine establishments he's chosen over the years. Lucky me!

To make up for my lack of vacation planning throughout the years, this past Memorial Day weekend, I assumed all responsibility for selecting a hotel in our destination city, NYC. Since the hubby always selects the uptown, "cha-ching" hotels, where every boutique and restaurant charges an arm and two legs, I thought it would be fun to go the opposite route and stay in the "artsy" district, where vendors are often selling their wares on the sidewalks and musicians line the streets. So, I selected the Soho Grand Hotel and the hubby, staying true to his "planner-ism," booked the hotel and made all the arrangements.

We arrived at JFK late Sunday night, met up with our driver, and gladly settled into the backseat as he navigated the car through the busy city streets. The hubby and I chatted excitedly as we made our way out of JFK, but our excitement quickly dissipated and silence filled the car. With every left turn, then right, the skyscrapers shrunk and the trash in the streets grew. Buildings were covered in graffiti, and some of the people walking the streets were not walking at all, they were sleeping. All I could think was that I totally blew it. The hubby stared out his window in silence and I'm assuming, complete shock as well. I didn't say a word.

When we arrived at the hotel, a young man greeted us, took our bags, and told us he would have them sent up to our room. The hubby didn't budge. He couldn't take his eyes off our bags. I had to yank him by the arm and drag him through the hotel doors. The hotel is quite modern, which appeals to me greatly, so that was a plus. Our room, not such a plus; it was about as big as the Plaza's bathroom, but, in all, it was clean and comfortable, and it suited our needs (not our wants).

Soho turned out to be almost everything I hoped it would be: Great shopping, fantastic restaurants, beautiful brownstone lined streets . . . and, yes, it was artsy.

The world (and a metal garage door) is an artist's canvas.

Original piece can be viewed from Room 216 the Soho Grand.

A nearby courtyard is home to this masterpiece.

A 19th century watercolor by Mike Z.

The crowds of people waiting to view this Contemporary artwork

matched those waiting to view the Picasso exhibit at the

Metropolitan Museum of Art.

An art collection on display at a local eatery.

I love the thoughtful placement of the parmesan

cheese shaker - beautiful accent.

And . . . we did in fact stumble across a true artist.

We do plan on going back to Soho, but when we do, we'll probably try out Trump's hotel.

Life is good!

Coyote Sighting Beyond The Creek

2010-04-20T20:12:00.000-07:00

Until today, everyone (my husband and neighbors) but me has seen a coyote traverse the creek that flows down our small canyon. For a year now, I've heard the coyotes celebrating their kills in the wee hours of the mornings, and I've heard all the neighbors' scary coyote tales, and believe me, I've been scared, big time! And I've had some terrible nightmares, in fact, in one of my dreams a coyote attacked my dog, and when I went to rescue my dog, the coyote attacked me. I literally felt pain in my leg as the coyote bit through it.

Well, today, in broad daylight, my nightmares became a reality; I saw a coyote stalking through our yard in the tall vegetation growing just beyond the creek. I was at the sink washing dishes when I saw the little bugger, and instead of grabbing my camera to document the event, like any truly committed and talented blogger would do, I panicked and ran to the slider and forcibly pushed each of our "12 Paws" into the house. (Bear, the 75 pound English Bulldog, required three solid pushes -- man, she's stubborn when someone's trying to save her life!) Anyway, my hubby was a little put off by my display of cowardice. He'd rather I left the dogs outside to see if they would chase the coyote away. WHAT??? Would you leave your children outside to see if they could frighten off a deranged, starving coyote? I know I made the right decision. To calm my frazzled nerves, I poured myself a cup of steaming hot green tea. A little tea and American Idol -- just what the doctor ordered.

PS - Found this pic on the web, but I swear this is what the little bugger looked like!