Happy New Year-ish!
Our Holiday card became a New Year card, became a Chinese New Year card, became a Happy March card. Time has become pretty “wibbly-wobbly-timey-wimey”, to quote Doctor Who. This New Year Novella is our best attempt to share our lives and hearts with you, which cannot be summed up in a “TLDR.” However, if you continue to read, you will experience the best fence joke you’ve ever heard and have ample opportunity to guffaw at our poor ability to provide animal control.
We started 2024 with a new membership to the YMCA, a declaration to read 1 physical book a month, and I additionally declared writing a monthly blog: Through Rose Adams Colored Glasses. A year later, we no longer have the membership, a dozen books or so were completed between the two of us (admittedly several were kids’ books), and if you’re on my email list, you already know I only wrote blogs through July. It was real salt in the wound that when Logan and I had an opportunity to take a professional photo together, the backdrop was stacks of books in the University library.
The biggest shift in our lives happened in August. Our darling Lula dog passed. Our sweet little fox. We are crushed. Her love broke my heart open. She was my travel companion- going to 35+ states. Everywhere she went, she acted like she owned the place. Her hair was poufy. We called her “12 lbs. of pure confidence, and 8 of it is hair!” Bittersweet that once in a conversation about how people look like their dogs, Logan said that Lula and I have the same hair.
In 2023, Lula tagged along to California for our wedding and road trip honeymoon. When we finally arrived home, I carried Lula, and Logan carried me, as we crossed the threshold. Her front feet would tap tap tap tap tap in excitement when treats came out. Her bark had such enthusiasm that the front half of her body would lift off the ground with every “WOOF!” Kids, adults, everyone was drawn to her. She was pretty, and she knew it. Little Lu, we sure do miss you.
I send a holiday letter each year, and the last few included a list of my favorite of dad’s curses, which mostly appear during family game nights. My favorite dad-words from 2024: Ding dong! Right in the chakras! Chimichangas! Pinochle! Chopsticks! King Kong! Muumuu! Un-hezzah! Funicular! Monkey stuff! Donkey Kong! Piddle pops! Snapdragons! Diaper pail! And pig farts!
His potty mouth may have you thinking he must be losing all the time. No, save your pity, or at least give it to me and Logan. Rick Oneal is the king of games. After an evening of Pops winning every game on Thanksgiving, the whole family stood and pointed at him and shouted, “boo boo booooo!” While he let out an evil cackle.
Curses aren’t Dad’s only unique vocabulary. He’s got such a wide selection of special words that we, along with Heather and our friends Greg Higgins and Steve Safigan, have been discussing compiling a “Rick-tionary” to define them all. Words like: Horn swogglers, jibber jabbers, risky biscuits, and hmnb.
Grandma O celebrated her 90th birthday, and MANY of you sent her a card. Thank you! She received hundreds! She loved it! My recent favorite quote from Grandma O: “There must be something I need to do and don’t want to, because I sure am getting lots of other things done!” Side note: if you know my dad, ask him about Clown College.
In January, I packed my bags and headed to the airport at 4 AM, California bound to celebrate Tory’s birthday. It started raining and the flight was delayed. It started snowing, and the flight was delayed again. The rain turned to ice, and all flights for the day were canceled. Logan picked me up at 1:30 PM- which is a long time to be in the airport holding a blinking birthday tiara. It was a slow icy drive home (after realizing the car wipers didn’t work and attempting to scrape the windshield with the only “tool” in the car- Logan’s Hawaiian boardshorts.) We were unprepared, to say the least. We arrived home to find that the power was out.
At first, this was kind of exciting. It had “schools canceled” vibes. Plus, work was canceled for Logan. Then it got dark, and the temperature dropped 20 degrees. We lit candles, piled layers of clothes on, gathered all the animals in our bedroom, hung blankets over the windows, and made bad decisions about what to use our dying phone batteries on.
As mentioned, we started the year full of ambition. We decided to paint our kitchen cabinets. Sidenote: it’s a special kind of crazy to try and compare 17 versions of white paint swatches. When the ice storm hit, the kitchen was dismantled, and everything emptied out onto the floors and spread out across the house in preparation for painting. Even with electricity, mealtimes were complicated. Without electricity, it was a disaster. No heat, fridge, microwave, dishwasher, counter space, floor space, or knowledge of where anything was. We were blindly foraging through piles, in closets, and under beds to find forks, plates, and everything kitchen-related. It was a decidedly unfun scavenger hunt.
Our local world was shut down. Everyone seemed to be trapped at home or in line to buy propane. It was very quiet, except for falling ice and breaking tree limbs. We’d be in bed under a mound of blankets in the dark and hear giant crashes as heavy ice broke branches and brought down wires. It was a GIANT mistake to watch “Leave the World Behind.” As we shared our dark and cold room with 8 animals, we thought, “This is when the cats will eat us.” It sucked to have litter boxes in our bedroom. One night I woke up to Logan yelling at the cat, “Coco it’s clean enough!” As our little kitten continually pushed litter around her box. Logan’s big crisis was not having internet to change his fantasy basketball lineup. After about a week- the same day we got a generator- the electricity was restored.
With the lights back on, we found the paint on the cabinets had frozen before it cured. They needed to be sanded and painted again. That was a real blow. It had already been a struggle. I seem to be uniquely unqualified for house projects. I somehow sat on the paint primer lid within two minutes of it being opened. Logan watched me paint a sample on a tiny wall area and somehow also cover my entire shirt. He solved the mystery of why we were going through so much paint.
I dreaded sanding everything again. Until I talked with Karen Roberts. She asked me what type of sander I was using, and I replied, “My hands.” She kindly muffled her laughter and explained an eclectic sander would change my life- and boy howdy, did it. I had my first experiential glimpse of Tim Taylor’s obsession with power tools. I felt like I could jump on tall buildings. I went down a rabbit hole of trying to improve how the cabinets looked and discovered there is a diminishing return with sanding (like when a concave hole forms). Painting, sanding, painting, sanding, painting, sanding…just like Leonardo da Vinci with the Mona Lisa, this was my pièce de résistance.
Our kitchen eventually was completed with the help of Chris and Brittany Salvo, our white-knight-fairy-godfriends of DIY magic. They visited for a day and installed lights, hung a chandelier, and solved the problem of what to do with our ugly kitchen backsplash. I named the brownish backsplash color scheme “butts-n-stuff” after a long-running joke with my cousin Rachel, where we gave that as our answer to every question in a family game night. We were the only ones who thought it was funny- which was also funny. To us. only.
The Salvos generously share advice and affirm our home improvement efforts. It sounds pretty similar to how they praise their kids on a dicey coloring job, “It looks like you tried your best.” When they looked at our chaotic hand-drawn “map” tracking where each disconnected cabinet front needed to be returned to in the kitchen and saw a complicated system of “meows,” “ruffs,” stars, and numbers, they kindly said, “Isn’t that creative!”
My dear friend Christine was re-diagnosed with stage 4 cancer, and it was devastating. Logan and I traveled to Joshua Tree for a “Live Now” weekend with Christine Kim #2’s family and a special group of girlfriends: Christine Kim #1, Megan, and Emma. A highlight was making dozens of friendship bracelets. I later held a bracelet fundraiser to support Christine. Thank you to those who participated by buying my silly jewelry to support a special friend. Christine continues to heal. She is the cure, the miracle, and the hope.
We left the desert and spent the Sabbath with Fellowship of the King, my long-time spiritual transformation family. Then off to Long Beach for a gorgeous evening celebrating the wedding of Katie Walter and Chris Harbur. Thank you, Ed and Oscar, for hosting us. Thank you Rayehe and Jeff- you know how to make a party special. We loved seeing so many friends and dancing into the wee hours with Katie and Chris. We are so happy for you both!
We got about an hour of sleep before our flight home. Historically, low sleep makes us unbearably grumpy, but this time, we got the giggles. The gate agent took our tickets and said, “So we have Lyndsay and trouble,” while looking directly at Logan.
As we waited to board the plane, this little girl with ratty blonde hair ran alongside the line. She was about 4 years old. She threw her arms up in the air, twirled, and with the cutest lisp, yelled, “swaaa-priiiise!” And as she spun, her feet tripped on themselves, and she fell. (Don’t worry, she popped right back up.) I laughed so hard that tears poured from my eyes, and my stomach ached. Something about her “swaprising” herself. Maybe you had to be there. Hours later, as we exited the plane, her butt was covered with a thick brown globby mess. She could not be bothered to care. I overheard her mom say, “Even though we know it’s chocolate, it doesn’t mean other people know it’s chocolate, so we still need to clean it off.”
My Danish Sister, Safir, and her 9-year-old daughter Sigrid came to visit in March. We did ALL the American things- baseball, In-n-Out, and Costco. Plus, a trip to Creswell’s Saloon, where we drank cheap beer, bought matching tank tops, and Safir swooned at the possibility of living in a city that provided horse parking. We also did ALL the Danish things- rød grød med fløde, Frederik and Mary gossip, and Safir gave me Danish lessons. She’s a kind teacher, constantly affirming me, “Det godt, Lyndsay. Så dygtig!” Sigrid, however, let me know I was, in fact, not doing well, but it was good that I tried. I’ve since taken up Danish Duolingo, hoping to impress her next time. (It’s not going to happen.)
We day-tripped to the Oregon Coast to whale watch, hunt for agates, and visit my mom. My mom loves me so much and insists I’m great at Danish to her friends. The more I explain that I just know some words, the more Mom insists I’m just being humble. It was a treat to hear my mom tell Safir about how talented I am at Danish. Sigrid kindly stayed out of it.
On another day of their visit, we trekked down to the drive-through animal safari park. An emu snuck up on our car and scared the chimichangas right out of us. We slowly drove up on a field of crows, and at the same time, Saf and I both mimicked a loud “Pic-caw!” She is my soul sister. In true Adams fashion, the gift shop was an equal highlight to the cheetahs and elephants. We left with rocks, stuffed animals, and more rocks. I sing along with The Who, “We got gift-shopped again!”
Sigrid and I did not bond through Danish, but we did through tie-dye, building cat houses, beading bracelets, and other crafts so ugly she would decline them as gifts later. A true highlight was the Taylor Swift laser light show at our local science museum, where the four of us sang as loud as we could while watching lights dance to the beat across “the sky.”
The Universe’s humor did not disappoint. I had a juicy conversation with a friend discussing how it’s dangerous to judge another person’s life and know what is best for them. Then, I resolved to curb my judgments and stay in my own lane. A week later, I was summoned and selected for jury duty. Day one, the Judge said, “It’s your job to judge this person and decide their fate.” HA!
For my birthday, we took a trip to Seattle. We stopped in Portland at Yumm Cafe for a birthday lunch with Dad, Heather, Chris, and Brittany. They gave me a fun birthday sash, which matched the one the five-year-old girl- also there celebrating her birthday- was wearing. In Seattle, we went to a Trevor Noah stand-up show with my bestie Kat and her husband Bryan. 2024 gifted us with several live comedy shows: Ellen, Fortune Feimster, Sheng Wang, and we attended a taping of The Daily Show. After Seattle, we visited the San Juan Islands to spend time with Logan’s sister, Kallie. We were lucky to see Orca whales from the ferry. We took a detour home and went to the Oregon Coast to celebrate Mom’s birthday with her and Randy. It was a all wonderful.
In Spring, I volunteered with Foundations for their personal growth workshops. This snowballed into collaborating closely with them for months to design new systems, become their Staff Mentor, and bring the workshop back to California. I feel lucky to have staffed workshops twice this year. It’s special to share that experience with many dear friends, my Dad, and Heather.
A quick story I have permission to share: I had my first experience witnessing a quadriplegic participant in the workshop. Throughout the weekend, staff took turns supporting her with things like holding the microphone and collecting handouts. Which is what I imagined I’d be doing when it was my turn to support her. I moved my seat next to her and waited to help. The facilitator guided participants through a process of imagination and then invited them to draw what they imagined. Which meant I got to draw what she imagined, on her behalf. I am pig farts at drawing. Yet, I looked her in the eye and confidently asked, “What can I draw for you?” She described her imaginary scene by starting with a dinosaur-type animal. I could see a dinosaur shape in my mind’s eye. I was optimistic. I can do this. I was even so bold as to do it in pen. Just draw a tall neck, a humpback, four legs, and a long tail. When I was done, she said, “Oh. Um. Lyndsay, I wanted you to draw a dinosaur.”
Warm weather brought yard sales and yardwork. I made my only Creswell friend when I bought a French Wine barrel at her yard sale. (And who says we only buy stuff we don’t need at yard sales!?) Logan fell in love with a green bike at a steep discount. I said it looked small for him. He insisted it was perfect. Before we loaded it up in the car, the previous owner came outside to show Logan how to ride it. The cutest little pudgy 12-year-old boy walked Logan through the ins and outs of his old bike. Logan has since taken that bike on a ride with work colleagues and embarrassingly found out it’s way too small for him as he wobbly avoided several collisions.
Since we struggled through building our backyard fence in 2023, it surprised us both when we decided to roll the dice on our relationship and add a fence to the front yard. We felt pretty badass using our knowledge gained the summer before. We set up a neon straight-line string guide, affixing one end to a “starting point” fence post and the other to a ladder we placed on the front sidewalk to mark the “ending point.” Since our yard is on a hill, the ladder gave the string height to guarantee a level line. Genius. We were halfway done with the fence when we noticed the ladder had tipped over somewhere along the way. It was lying on the ground. That moment was a real heartbreaker. We contemplated starting over. We debate quitting. Instead, we just kept going. And we’ve got a crooked fence to prove it. Ready for the best fence joke you’ve ever heard?
Our fence must be gay, cause it sure ain’t straight!
While at a yard sale, I chatted with a woman about her tomato plants. She said they are easy plants to grow. I said I don’t doubt it, but I’m trying really hard and struggle with all things yard-related, and even easy things seem to be a struggle for me. Her response was, “Oh, do you live in the white house down the hill on the right?” Yes, I do.
A few weeks later, a different neighbor (whom I’d never met before) was driving by, saw me in the front yard, and pulled her car over. She rolled the passenger window down and yelled, “You’re doing a great job! Don’t quit! It’s getting better!” In our neighborhood, I’m known for our yard, chasing my 5lb dog that doesn’t listen to or respect me, and chasing cans of food down the middle of the road after they rolled out of my trunk, down the driveway, and down the street.
We’ve excitedly collected boxwood plants from locals wanting them off their property and transplanted them to our backyard. But rather than looking like a hedge, it’s more like a boxwood hospice. I’m hoping to grow (keep alive) roses next year. I recently complimented a guy at Tractor Supply on his rose tattoo. He said, “The tattoo is for my mom. It’s kind of basic. But, so is she.”
My thoughtful stepdad, Randy, left his pick-ax at our place “in case we needed it.” I’d never used one before and doubted I needed it. Now, I don’t think I can live without it. I tilled our hill, eradicated the crabgrass (more like “crap-grass,” am-i-rite?) and built (half) a fire patio with upcycled bricks. I thrive with a pick axe; working with a level is my nemesis. As I built the patio, leveling the bricks was slow and tedious. Once I stopped, the project moved along much faster…and to the left.
I’ve enjoyed my backyard days working and singing to the dogs, “Can you dig it? We can dig it? Can y’all dig it? We can dig it,” and laughing at my bad jokes. Our yard has a squirrel. And a snake. I’m working on my compassion and told the snake it was welcome in our yard, if he could please stop freaking me out. He has not held up his side of that agreement. Fiona recently got outside, and when I bent down to scoop her up, she was sitting by the snake. Just hanging out. Like a psycho.
In May, after many late work nights and long hours, Logan came home with flowers. I love flowers, and they instantly brought a big smile to my face. As I walked towards him, I gushed about how beautiful they were and how sweet he was, as tears of gratitude fell from my eyes. He stood there, frozen and speechless. I assumed he was taken off guard by my emotional response- because I was also surprised. As I went to hug him and accept the bouquet, he blurted out, “My boss gave me these.”
A few days later, I took Lula dog to the groomer, and I also got my hair cut and colored. My husband has many gifts and strengths. I know one of them is not noticing hair changes. So, when he got home from work, hugged me, and didn’t notice my hair, I didn’t take it personally. But, when he let go of me to rush over to Lula while gushing, “Look at my pretty girl and her pretty girl hair cut!” I started to take it personally.
Logan is thriving at his job with Bushnell University. As the Director of Marketing, he uses his gifts in communication, strategy, and bringing out the best in people. He especially enjoys his colleagues and the positive school spirit. At a school basketball game, we discussed the intimidation factor of team mascots. Lions, Vikings, and Wolves (scary.) Bushnell’s mascot is a yellow beacon named “Iggy” (less scary.) Logan explained, “Watch out! We’ll shine a light on your weaknesses.” We’ve decided Iggy’s power move is being asked his favorite color, and yelling, “MUUSSSSTTTAAAAAAAAAAAAARD!”
I love my coaching business. I love my clients. I love the new ways I’m connecting with people and creating community. I continue to offer 1-on-1 coaching, accountability groups, academic coaching, and bridal coaching (helping Brides not go crazy LyndsayRoseAdams.com) and now book clubs, retreats, quests, and fun products- like Rage Sage!
After many years of building trainings and workshops for other businesses, it’s been a total joy to create them for myself. I’ve hosted Plant Medicine personal growth retreats rooted in exploration, healing, fun, and freedom. At the retreats, I lead people on quests. I’ve also created DIY Quest Boxes for home (a special one for Brides, too.) In October, Logan and Dad ran a booth with me at the Portland Bride Convention. Wowza, that’s a lot of bride energy in one room! As always, it’s my top hobby to shoot the shit with Pops about coaching. We joke that we’re starting the National Coaches “I told you so” day.
This year was full of trying for me. And I loved it. If you’ve done just about any type of transformation or personal growth work, saying “try” is akin to saying “bomb” at the airport. It’s just as scandalous as “hope,” “should,” “help,” and “have to.” And I tried so hard this year! I’ve come to realize I’m not very talented. And it doesn’t matter. Gardening, refurbishing furniture, tie dye, Danish, painting, crafting, website building… the list goes on.
Often, I hardly recognize myself. Like when I could not shut up about how hard it must be to landscape a mountain trail. Or walking around the neighborhood to examine hedges. Or, intentionally playing Kenny Chesney. Either I’m expanding my interests or experiencing a mental break. During a conversation with my dad, I said, “I think I’m going through something. I mean, I’m landscaping.”
Logan tried getting Instagram famous via an account for our animals. He stayed up late, made checkpoint goals to complete each pet’s bio, and knew exactly how many followers he had at any given moment (it’s mostly my family). When the animals would do cute stuff, he’d grab his camera and say, “I gotta get that connnnnntent!” We went to a comedy show downtown and the door guy looked at Logan and said, “Paw Palace and Kitty City?” Logan lit up. For one second, he felt the fame of being a recognized influencer. Then, remembered through a show ticketing snafu, he had contacted the club’s help desk through Instagram, and had accidently used the pet’s account. #pawpalaceandkittycity
I’ve waited as long as possible to talk about our animals. We are fluent in speaking Cat, thanks to Henrietta on Mr. Rogers. In the best of times, we imagine ourselves as 101 Dalmatian’s Jim Dear and Darling. Although, with 6 cats, Logan may be closer to the Tiger King. I want to be the woman who runs with wolves and start most mornings howling with my little wolves and wolf-ette. You know you have a lot of animals when you habitually call your own doctor “The Vet.” Like Noah, we believe in the buddy system. Also, like Noah, there’s like, a lot of animals in here. After adopting our third dog, we agreed we were probably two animals away from an intervention.
Here is a quick update on each animal. You may need a song to remember all their names- like the songs we learned in school to memorize all 50 states or the books of the bible.
Ruby Frances Tangerine: Our little goober. She hates medical appointments as much as Logan, and pancakes flat to the counter. She’s voted our quirkiest animal. She has a whisper meow and does an interpretative dance around the house as she rubs up against the furniture. Logan speaks her language and dances with her. She was a sea lion in another life. Her buddy is Ziggy
Ziggy Star: A little prince. He’s sweet, needy, and a slobber bucket while making biscuits. He tunneled a hole into the bottom of the sofa, and when we stapled plywood over the hole to fix it, we accidentally shut him in. Ziggs is still in therapy. He meows and talks a lot- including a big game. He was the house bully until 5lb. Olive came around and put him in his place.
Coco Strawberry and Emerald Watermelon (Sisters and buddies) They play bunny kick bunny kick, kiss kiss kiss kiss, bunny kick kick kiss. When they discovered the pet door to the catio, it must have felt like Narnia. My hat box on the top shelf of the closet is their secret nap spot. Coco is smart and adventurous. She runs after you around the house when she wants attention. On family picture day, she hid behind the water heater and got stuck.
Emerald is the animal ambassador and boops everyone often and aggressively. Her nemesis is the drinking fountain, which she dismantles daily. They can most often be found playing in the bathtub. We still struggle to tell them apart. Their favorite toy is this tattered mouse on a string that dangles from their cat stand. We long believed it was indestructible, with how hard they play and how long it’s continued to dangle. Until Logan yanked on it once, and it broke instantly. He felt buff AF.
Since they’re often together, we’ll use the combined name “Sisters.” After hearing the earworm song “Sisters” from the film White Christmas, we’re often calling our cats and then singing the song (although we don’t know all the words). It sounds something like, “Sisters, sisters, nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah sisters. Sharing…. Caring…. Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah…wearing.” It’s awful, and we can’t stop doing it.
Rufus Wainwright Skyewalker: Little King Rufus from Texas. Goofy Rufe. He knows his boundaries and will let you know when you’ve crossed them. He loves to cuddle, but on his terms. We are talking about sending him to Kind Camp. He’s a fragile dude. When any animal gets in trouble, he runs to hide under the bed in shame. His special skill is pushing buttons on the TV remote.
He just got a new Vet and throughout the visit she called him, “Lenny.” Our long-time vet assistant looked at me, horrified, and gently tried to correct her. But somehow, that just had her start referring to me as “Steffanie.” Neither name got sorted. After Lula crossed the rainbow bridge, Rufus became buddies with me and Logan.
Fiona Apple: Beefy Fi Fi, Fe-o-ne-o-ne, Pirate, our little ever-kitten. She got her first at-home haircut last month- and it’s obvious it was free. As the president of the Poopy Butt club, she needs help grooming. Years ago, I walked into the living room to find Fiona sitting over a dead bird. The mystery of how she got that bird was never solved. Baby Fee has one eye and very few survival instincts- other than making friends.
Recently, I heard birds shrieking in the backyard, and I found a group of blue jays circling Fiona and yelling at her to move away from the dead blue jay she was sitting by. I couldn’t believe she was involved in a second dead bird scandal. When she finally walked away, the “dead” bird popped up and flew away. Fiona was equally confused.
Roma (Beyonce) Tomato: Or as Logan calls her, “sluttery biscuits.” She lives in a constant game of ‘The floor is lava.’ We extend trust to Roma and her buddy Fi to hang out in the backyard. We watch them, but they just chase bugs and lie in the sun. One morning, I went into the backyard and couldn’t find Roma. I finally spotted her through the back fence in the neighbor’s yard. I went all the way around the block to knock on the (new) neighbor’s door. I apologized and explained that this never happens. I brought Roma home and went back to the yard to get Fiona. And she was gone. The second apology, on the same day, for the same thing that “never” happens seemed less believable. Those little rat cats had been Shaw-shanking their way through a kitty-sized hole under the fence for months. After Roma was busted, Fiona had to make a run for it before the hole was found.
Olive Adventure: In hindsight, we should have named her “Olive Good Listener,” “Olive Respects Cats,” or “Olive Pees Outside,” had we known she’d take her name so seriously. She’s Buddy the Elf and every day is Christmas. This little puppy girl plays constantly and loves everybody. She’s so little and cute. With her itty mohawk and bitty beard. We call her short and stumpy tail her windshield wiper and imagine it making squeaky sounds as it waggles back and forth.
She has many qualities that remind us of Lula. She knows she’s adorable, and that translates to confidence, which translates to obstinance. Olive runs through the yard shrieking and chasing Jasper. Every day is her best day. She is our fence inspector, too often finding (creating) holes and dashing through neighbors’ yards. It’s cringy how bad of neighbors we have become.
Having a puppy means potty training. Turns out we don’t know how to teach dogs anything. What we do know, is we’re not the Alpha. If our rescue animals wrote a memoir, it would be called, “The Path to Entitlement.” We run around after all three dogs saying “Potty outside, potty outside,” (it comes out rhyming with Eminem’s lyric “round the outside, round the outside.”) It was a real low point the day the rhumba ran over a pile of dog poop.
We weren’t planning on getting another dog when Lula passed, but when Olive’s cute face popped up on Facebook needing a home, I applied for her. Along with tons of other people. It seemed like a harmless long shot. Then we were picked. So, we got a new dog. Which led to getting her a buddy, Jasper. Cue DJ Khaled. “A-notha-one.” My favorite nickname for her is “Olly-Lu.” She’s got Logan wrapped around her…windshield wiper.
Jasper Moon: He’s got a tiny head and looks like a Simpsons dog (appropriate since we live close to Springfield). He came with the name ‘Reese.’ He looks like a Reese’s peanut butter cup. We started calling him “Reese Jasper,” and it sounded a lot like “Ricky Bobby.” Olive needed a playmate and Rufus was completely disinterested. So when the animal shelter we got Olive and the sisters from asked if we’d adopt Jasper, we said yes. His elderly owner died. Sweet Jasper was with her when it happened and tried to follow her into the ambulance. He was heartbroken, lonely, and needed friends. We filled out our animal punch card, bought 3, and got the 4th animal free.
The night we brought Jasps home, he was in the other room and we heard this crazy high-pitched sound. Logan and I looked at each other with alarm and asked, “What’s that noise?” It was his bark. It sounds like a squeaky toy being murdered. Although his buddy and bestie is Olive, Jaspie (Rice Jaspies) is a cat guy. He can regularly be found cuddling with Emerald and even Roma.
In another life, he was a dolphin. He loves jumping, leaping, and squeaking. He joins Olive and the cats in their obsession to breach the fence. I guess the grass is always greener, even for animals. Well, the grass is greener because we don’t have grass. The only green in our yard is weeds. Our sweet little zoo keeps our hearts full and the floors dirty.
Spring brought a special treat of the aurora borealis being visible in Oregon. Did you see it? There were pictures all over Facebook. Which was cool because that’s the only place we saw it. We had no idea and missed the whole thing.
Logan’s birthday week collided with a trip to Colorado for Pia Sellery and Phillip Richards’ wedding. We first spent a few days in Portland with the Salvo Family. Chris and Logan’s birthdays are one day apart, and we celebrated together. We saw Death Cab for Cutie and The Postal Service play full albums, start to finish. At least aging brings good “20th Anniversary” shows. Logan’s Aunt Julie and Uncle Norm were in town and joined us, along with our parents, for Logan’s birthday Brunch.
That night, we had a dinner party near the airport that stretched right up until our 1 am flight to Colorado. At dinner, Logan opened gifts as his friends and family watched. I gave him these little pink kitten croc shoes that I thought were hilarious. He opened them and laughed, while everyone else gasped with wide eyes. Logan and I were confused. Turns out this gift exchange resembled a baby announcement. It did not even cross our minds that little pink shoes could be seen as anything other than Kitten Crocs.
In Denver, the car rental place mixed up our reservation. The only available vehicle was a giant truck (sorry, “rig”). Driving it was extremely empowering. I get it now. The whole rig thing. I was ready to fill it with tools, help people move, and bully all the little Prius cars trying to share the road with me. The weekend was full of gorgeous events and joyful tears. It was a treat to see friends and connect with Soul Sisters. Even Kat happened to be in town from Seattle and came along as our collective plus 1. Thank you, John and Katherine Sellery, for hosting. It was a delight to celebrate Pia and Phillip. We are so happy for you.
The reception had an old dial-up phone that guests could use to call and leave a celebratory message for the happy couple. Logan froze up, panicked, and said, “Thank you for celebrating with you.” At the airport, two gate agents said to me, “Have a great trip!” I so badly wanted to respond, “You, too!” But I knew that wasn’t right. My brain got all jammed up. It was everything I could do not to say that. Instead, I blurted, “Thank you both very!” It was awkward.
June brought another wedding and another trip. We were off to Alaska! Well, after the flight was delayed several times, canceled, and rebooked for the next day – we were off to Alaska! (This was a travel theme all year.) We spent a week in Sitka, Alaska, to celebrate the marriage of Logan’s best friend Isaac. As the Best Man, Logan surprised Isaac by outfitting all the dudes in Hawaiian shirts and hats covered with Isaac’s face. The Bachelor party was a remote trip out to an island. All I know is that Logan fell out of his Kayak and couldn’t get back in, they came back with dozens of bug bites, and I’ve never seen my husband happier.
While he was gone, I played tourist. Sitka is a unique blend of Native American, Russian, and American cultures. I came to wish I’d watched fewer limited-series-small-town-murder shows on Netflix. They got under my skin. I was on edge and wide-eyed as I explored the harbor, cemetery, churches, and historic homes.
Alaska was amazing. We enjoyed a gorgeous hike with the wedding party, as well as a polar plunge and whale watching. Logan’s brother Kyle lives in Sitka, and it was great to spend time with him and Jared (their other brother, also in town for the wedding.) We explored the bear sanctuary and saw eagles. On the big day, the weather cleared, and the mountainside ceremony was stunning. We’re so happy for you, Isaac and Amy!
Summertime brought local fun. Our backyard basketball hoop got lots of use. Logan tries to coach my shot, which he says is more like a volleyball set. We attended several Emeralds Baseball games, visited the Jordan Schnitzer Museum, floated the Willamette River with our friends Victoria and Daniel, attended the Scandinavia and Pride Festivals, and finally took our Kayak out for a spin. And yes, it was literally a spin. Turns out watersports brings out the worst in us, resulting in passive-aggressive not-paddling. It also reminded us to start exercising. I saw my one-piece swimsuit and thought, “When did I start wearing a tablecloth?”
Summer also brought a miracle. Randy (my stepdad) let us know he had time off and asked if we needed work done on our house. It’s like we were handed a home-improvement genie lamp. My Mom, the animal whisperer, also contributed her gardening, interior design, and organizational skills. We are blessed to have supportive, generous, and fun parents.
The house was full for the 4th of July. Creswell throws a big parade, and it passes by our house. A group of friends joined us, and we lined chairs along our sidewalk. Mom & Randy (+ their cats) and Bryan Carli with his 3 kids (Amelia, Aiden, and Ethan) all stayed with us. Our house isn’t super kid-friendly. We were nervous the kiddos would be bored. Turns out our treadmill is fun entertainment. We certainly did not know that. It took us 6 months to realize we hadn’t used the treadmill in 6 months. The kids had increased the incline (for fun, of course). We don’t know how to change it back.
As Logan’s school started the 2024 academic year, he organized staff headshots. There was a sign-up sheet for 15-minute photoshoots. After everyone had signed up, there was one spot available at 11:00 AM. He offered it to me. With that morning off, I had plenty of time to get ready. But I took a phone call that, surprisingly, lasted an hour and a half. I had to pick up the pace to get ready. As I got dressed, I found out the shirt I planned to wear had a stain. I tore through my closet looking for an alternative. I tried on a dozen things. Everything was too tight, too wrinkled, or too ugly. I was out of time. I circled back to wearing the stained shirt, jammed my feet in slip-on shoes, grabbed the clothes pile on my bed with both arms, and ran to the car. If I was late, I’d miss my one opportunity.
I arrived on campus, rattled, and turned around. Photos were happening at the library, not Logan’s office. I hadn’t been in the library before. I had to find parking at the gym, cross the street, and the university green. As I ran across the street with my arms full of clothes, I looked down and saw the fabric strips that fastened my pants were untied and dangling in the wind. I had a choice. Looking silly getting to the appointment with undone pants or looking silly dropping the bundle of clothes on the ground in the middle of campus while I tied my pants. I went with the latter.
I rushed into the photoshoot just in time. I was flustered. I couldn’t get comfortable and kept wiggling in the chair. Something just wasn’t right. I shuffled through my pile of clothes to add layers for different looks- and tried not to embarrass my husband at his job. Afterword, I couldn’t find my keys. Somehow, in all the commotion, I misplaced them. As I searched the room, I realized I hadn’t checked my pockets. I jammed my hands in my pant pockets. I did not find my keys. But, I did find out my pants were on backwards. Weeks later, Logan and I were looking at the photo results and he asked me what I thought. I said, “I like them, and I’m so glad you can photoshop them.” He replied, “I already did.” Salt in my wrinkled wound.
We were lucky enough to witness both Sellery “kids” get married! Sam and Cat welcomed us to Cooperstown, New York for their wedding in September. That East Coast charm had us dreaming about buying property. We enjoyed the lake weather, made new friends, and visited the Baseball Hall of Fame. The wedding was on the grounds of an art museum and the whole thing was beautiful. We also spent a couple of days in the city and visited Claryss, Nydia and Scott, and my Uncle Rande and Aunt Jane on Long Island. It’s been a long time since I saw Rande and Jane. I’m glad I got to introduce them to Logan.
We felt very “country mice” in the big city. Driving was stressful. Parking was stressful. Crossing the street was stressful. I guess everything road-related was stressful. Although, after we returned the rental car and attempted to take mass transportation to meet Scott and Nydia- it was still mega stressful. While Logan and I clung to each other, the cycle we repeated started with getting great directions from Scott, then staring blankly at subway signs, repeating back the directions to each other, praying one of us would figure it out, desperately looking around and walking aimlessly, and finally calling Scott and asking for directions again. I have traveled to many countries. I have traveled between countries by train. I have lived in a city and been dependent on public transportation. How have I become this person?
Braving the subway was worth it. Our “city mice” friends took great care of us. We went to Daniel Gaynor’s jazz club “Close Up.” Folks, this is not background music and we are not in an elevator. It was amazing! We even got T-shirts. You know we can’t turn down a gift shop. Although, the shirts were generously gifted to us. Thank you, Daniel! New York was a blast. We got a tour of the city from Nydia and covered more ground than we thought possible.
Autumn brought us Annalisa! Our good friend came for a visit, and we met up with Chris and Brittany for a Pitbull concert. In Logan’s excitement, he meant to flash the “rock-n-roll” sign with his fingers to Chris, but he popped that thumb out and sent an, “I love you.” Chris flashed, “I love you,” back. The concert was amazing. And yes, T-Pain was there. And yes, Lil Jon was there. And yes, we pretended like we knew all the words. Afterword, we had a discussion trying to decipher the lyrics to “Get Low,” and established we’re old.
I broke my first bone. And no, not at the concert. And no, not doing something crazy. And no, alcohol was not involved. I was talking on the phone to Michelle and kicked my bedpost with my baby toe. I dropped to the floor and cried. My sweet, and very analytical husband, rushed to check on me and asked 20 questions about what happened. I blurted, “Are you writing a *funicular!* book report? I stubbed my toe!”
With Logan’s emotional chips on the San Francisco 49’ers success, it’s been a long football season. I gave him a decorative sign that says, “We interrupt this marriage for football season.” He shares his love for Northern California sports teams with his dad. They commiserated over Thanksgiving- which was otherwise a lovely holiday to share with his parents, sister Kallie, and her little kiddos Rigel and Piper.
In October, I got together with my best guy friends from High School and went to a Weezer show. To celebrate the 30th anniversary of The Blue Album, they played it from start to finish. It was really special to be there with that group of friends. We listened to a lot of music together in high school. Mark, Kris, and Kevin even played a Weezer song in our school’s talent show- and also at my (our) wedding. We just celebrated 3 years of being married. We dug out our cake from the back of the freezer to have a piece. Woof. Gross.
Logan and I solved a pretty big mystery. On a drive, we admired a rainbow. As we exited the highway, we got even closer. It didn’t fade or disappear. It came all the way down to the ground. Guys, we found the end of the rainbow and it’s in Springfield! We’re still waiting on the gold.
Another magic moment happened in the car. I had been listening to Taylor Swifts’ TTPD while driving home to pick Logan up. I ran in the house to get him, and when we got back to the car, I turned it on and Taylor’s “…Ready for it?” was playing. At first, I was confused, then I swooned because his bluetooth picked up in my car, and revealed we’re both Swifties.
A mystery yet to be solved, is how did get so bad at video games? Or, how were the kid versions of us so good at them? We got an old-school Nintendo for Christmas. It took two hours to beat the first level of Contra. And that’s with us making a pact to “seriously, like seriously for real” try hard.
I’m fortunate to live near my mom and her mom, my Grandma E. I made several quick trips to the coast to visit them. One visit overlapped with my Aunt Traci, Cousin Scotty, his wife Wendy, and their kids, Asher and Daisy. Asher is almost taller than me. I knew it was coming, I just thought I had more time. Daisy showed us her tap dance skills, which was so precious I could cry. I was fortunate to be in California for her Golden 8th birthday in December. I saw all my nieces and nephews, including meeting the new baby, Daniel.
That California visit was bittersweet. I visited the home of a long-time coaching client, Maddie Droubay. I spent time with Maddie and her parents, who are equally lovely. She got a tough diagnosis last Christmas, and throughout the year her health declined, although her spirits did not. I am grateful for that visit and the time spent sitting together. She called me a few days later and simply said, “Hi. I love you.” Later that week, Maddie passed peacefully in her sleep. As I write this, I am preparing to travel to California for her Funeral. I have the great honor of speaking at her service and celebrating Maddie’s life.
My grade school friend, Michelle, lives in Eugene, and we are lucky enough to spend tons of time with her. 20-ish years ago when I lived in Copenhagen, Michelle visited me for Christmas, and we participated in Danish holiday traditions. We brought that magic to Creswell and hosted a Jule hygge party with aebleskiver, konfekt, glogg, pebbernodder and risalamande (Lou found the almond!) Kevin (my old roommate from California) and I watched our friends take shots of Aquavit and experienced, ‘shotdenfreude,’ the pleasure derived by watching another person struggle to swallow alcohol.
We wrapped the year with Dad and Heather in an intense game night where winners collected stamps in the fake passports we each have. My favorite part of the night was the escalation of a song by “Fat Pat” playing, to Logan calling my (healthy) dad, “Fat Rick.” (Dad’s first name is Patrick.) It seems odd to end this Novella on “Fat Rick,” but that is how we ended the year, so I guess it’s appropriate.
We are so grateful to have you in our lives.
Cheers to 2025,
Lyndsay, Logan, Roma, Fiona, Rufus, Ziggy, Ruby, Coco, Emerald, Olive, & Jasper
