Striped Socks and Skinny Jeans: Goin' Back to Cali

It's been a busy few weeks.

First I got on a plane last minute to head to Gainesvegas for my Nana. After ten days there, I headed home.

Three days after coming back to Stavanger, Husband signed a new contract keeping us here until the end of next year.

So that evening we bought tickets to California and took off the next morning to see his family for Thanksgiving.

We've been back for three days, but I still don't have my head around the correct time zone...

In the meantime, here's a few glimpses into the big fun in California.

We flew into San Francisco and spent one night passed out in our hotel, wiped from the time difference. The second night we met up with dear Andrea for some seafood. Husband ordered crab. The waiter came over and tied this giant bib around Husband's neck. It was so dramatic and flourish-y that we couldn't quite tell if the waiter was overly serious or totally kidding. Either way, it was awesome.

Andrea did not need a bib.

The next day we were off to Roseville (right outside of Sacramento) for Thanksgiving with the Durel fam. (Yes, those are collard greens on my plate. The only thing that could have made me happier would have been fried turkey.)

This was the grown-up's table. Husband, me, Jim, Belva, Grandma Margie, Tim. Contrary to the fact that Jim is wearing the apron, Tim was the super-chef.

Grandma Margie has spent the past few months cross-stitching our names and wedding date, then had it framed. We love it. Not only is it really lovely, but the effort and thoughtfulness behind it make it even better.

Then a few nights later, we all went for pizza and bowling. (Matt, Audrey, Tim and Joe) Audrey is grinning because her pizza and beer was like rocket fuel and she knew that in a very short time, she'd be smokin' all of us.

Sweet Joe is consoling Husband as he laments the fact that bowling shoes, while updated from the traditional brown and red lace-ups, still fail to meet his sartorial standards.

Belva promises she has no idea how to fix the electronic scoreboard, but for them, she would if she could.

This was my actual birthday, so I brought cupcakes and blew out a candle, too.

Yep, just because I am knocked up, doesn't mean I can't knock them down. (Which I really didn't all that often. The ball was the lightest one in the whole alley and I wasn't throwing very hard. But still I wasn't dead last, so that's something.)

Husband has mad skills. Check those moves, too.

The whole crew.

Then Matthew practiced the art of paparazzi.

But then I caught him catching everyone else.

The next day, we headed back to San Francisco for a night with Andrea and Deena. Andrea, always the best hostess, guide and font of limitless information gave us a tour of the city as it spread out before us.

Deena had to work a bit late and met us at Foreign Cinema, where they hosted us at one of the best birthday dinners, ever. (Plus I was sitting between two of my favorite smarties. Husband was to my left and this guy was to my right.) Seriously, if you ever get a chance, be friends with Deena and Andrea (or even just one, if that is all you can manage.) They know good food and wine. And they are better fun that a barrel of monkeys.

I forget whether Deena is trying to count how many glasses of wine she's had or is vainly trying to demonstrate "L" for left. Husband is smiling because he knows the answer to both questions.

All of us, courtesy of Andrea.

Happy birthday to me! Notice the yummy swanky cake. It was chocolate, chocolate and oh so good. (It was soooooooo good, I actually carried the last three pieces alllllllll the way home with me.) And of course, Andrea hunts down the best place in the city for the cake.