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I’ll tell you, kids in the 4 to 5 year-old age range make the coolest drawings. Take a look at this one, Exhibit A. And it’s not just the exceptional subject matter that makes it stand out. It’s just outstanding art.

From left to right, study the subjects. That’s about as good a likeness you’re going to get of Melinda, down to the multi-colored dress. Next up is Ella, also well-drawn in a multi-colored dress. Chloe, clearly, was a bit harder to capture, considering the artist had to work from memory. And if the top hat on my head doesn’t impress you, certainly the red shoes will (undoubtedly an Elvis Costello reference as in The Angels Wanna Wear My…), not to mention the glasses and facial hair.

Last night I mentioned that Perrin had completed many fine drawings at Michele’s 75th birthday party. This one we got to take home.

The title of this post refers to a cocktail made with gin, lemon juice, sugar and champagne. The photo is of Michele, Melinda’s mother. Tallied, yesterday was Michele’s 75th birthday! So last night we gathered at the home of Dwight and Michele to celebrate (no gifts, please).

In attendance were Dwight & Michele, Brenda, Greg & Perrin, and Melinda, Ella & me. At one point in the evening, Dwight, Greg and I were involved in a conversation about our wives. We looked over at them and, while sipping our French 75 cocktails, commented how good they all looked. I’m not about to suggest that the cocktails had anything to do with the topic of conversation. I’m just trying to be an unbiased reporter presenting nothing but the facts.

Other facts of the evening include that we ate lasagna for dinner. Ella pronounced it delicious, an evaluation I happen to agree with. Perrin completed many fine drawings. The adults sipped cocktails. The men adored their wives.

Every Sunday morning since we’ve been back from France I get up early and go for a run. Last Sunday, of course, that run was the half marathon. But, typically, these runs are quiet and solo, time for contemplation. I love it. Today’s run included the morning sun and blue sky!!

My usual path takes me from our house to Magnuson Park, around the park for a bit, and back. It’s a run that has some serious hills, which makes it a good training run. Although I’ve not measured it, I estimate the distance I’m running to be right around 7 miles.

The quickest I’ve ever run this route is 62 minutes. I’ve run this speed consistently but today vowed to complete the run in 60 minutes. I pushed myself hard from the start when I normally coast while I get warm. Having not run at all since last Sunday and pushing myself, I found myself getting tired. This started playing on my mind, especially as I climbed the killer hill from Sand Point Way to the top of View Ridge, but I kept going. Getting home, I found I had shattered my record, running in 56 minutes.

I took this picture this morning (with my French cell phone) as I ran along Lake Washington at Magnuson Park.

When I was a kid we had a dog, a miniature dachshund by the name of Gretel. Gretel had a number of allergies, so many, in fact, that my parents made her homemade dog food. Every 4-6 weeks or so, they’d get some cheap lamb bones and boil them with plain white rice. The remaining meat and rice formed the basis of Gretel’s meals, which were measured out and frozen for future use.

Now on the days my parents made her food, Gretel would go nearly crazy. She knew this food was hers and she wanted it all. Now. She’d get underfoot. She’d whimper. She’d beg. Thinking back on this (and other scenes from my youth), I think I’ve got the material for a TV sit-com.

Moving forward, I have renewed sympathy for Gretel. You see, today’s photo is another of the three Laurent sent me earlier this week. It’s the meal Frédérique served last Saturday night. Seeing it, duck confit, makes me feel like Gretel must have felt on the days my parents made her meals. I’m begging…

The picture also prompted me to go online and search for duck confit. I found it on Amazon, but it’s so blasted expensive. I went so far as to add it to my cart, then removed it at the last second.

Gretel, help me!

Here’s an extreme close-up of our niece Perrin, who is spending the night with us tonight, the first time. The title of tonight’s entry refers to the fact that she’ll be sleeping in Chloe’s bed. As such, we decided to call her “Little Chloe” and have anointed Ella to be her big sister.

As I write it’s 8:30pm. Big sister Ella and “Little Chloe” are snug under blankets watching the Grinch. For a chilly Friday night in December, it doesn’t get much better than this. That is, unless you add in the fact that after dinner we all ventured to Trophy Cupcakes at U Village to pick up cupcakes for dessert. When the idea was first being bantered about, I’m pretty sure “Little Chloe” didn’t think we were serious. Once we explained that in OUR house we spend every Friday night going out for cupcakes and staying up all night to eat them, I think some confidence in the idea was had.

Apparently in “Little Chloe’s” house, they don’t often go out at night for cupcakes.

A good friend commented on my Facebook page today that I looked young while crossing the finish line in Sunday’s half marathon. What a nice thing to say. Interestingly, I was having just the opposite reaction, especially after seeing this photo of me taken by Melinda moments after I crossed the line. Other than the fact that I’m wearing contacts instead of glasses and therefore look quite a bit different, even to me, don’t I look a bit old? Wrinkles, gray in my beard, dripping water on my forehead…

Hey, I am holding my finisher’s medal, though.

It is a funny thing I’m experiencing at age 48, how I feel younger than I think I appear to other people. For instance, when I’m out in public, say in a grocery store, I see someone and think, “Oh, he’s probably my age.” Thinking about it later and talking to Melinda, I come to conclude that this “he” is probably under 30. Similarly, the people I think now look old are probably my age.

It’s like when I got to the age where all the Seattle Mariners on the team roster were younger than me. Is that some kind of milestone? Or the start of some kind of crisis?

I got an email today with a link to a website containing a couple of professional photos taken of me on Sunday during the half marathon. Truth be told, I snagged this one from that site, of me crossing the finish line. But I’m not too interested in paying what they’re asking for nice copies.

In reviewing the results, as I mentioned on Sunday I came in 751st place. I also learned that a friend and neighbor of ours, the father of one of Ella’s friends, came in 18th. He’s faster than me. He also is a curator at the EMP Museum and once gave an after hours tour of the museum to Elvis Costello and Diana Krall. That makes him much cooler than me, too. So I’m okay with him beating me.

But I also got beat, and by nearly 8 minutes, mind you, by another acquaintance of mine, a man a year older than me who attended the same high school I attended. His name? Rob McKenna. You Washingtonians may have heard of him. He’s the state’s Attorney General and has a good shot at being the next Governor.

Rob, I’ve got my marathon sights set on you and your time.

Today Melinda and I received a wonderful email from Laurent in Nantes. It came under the subject line “Repas Français” (French Meal). The message is so wonderful, I present it here in its entirety:

Hi Andy and Melinda,

We send you three pictures from last weekend during the Saturday dinner where we invited friends. It was just before your half marathon! It was the 26 November about 21h00 at Nantes and 11h00 at Seattle (Not a good meal before run). We eated your favorite french plate Andy! Cuisses de canard confit… And to disgest we drank a little glass of Liqueur de Poire William … Your bottle Andy! It was just to your health to wish you a good race.

More soon.
Sorry for my english!
Laurent

If such a thing is possible, this message makes my heart smile. And I suppose that Laurent might be a little embarrassed that I’ve quoted his entire message, but I hope not. His support and sentiment is unmistakable.

Today’s photo is one of the three photos attached to the email. Indeed, that’s Laurent, drinking to my health the night before my half marathon from the bottle I gave him just before we left France.

Salut, Laurent!

Our refrigerator doubles as a chalkboard. Pretty old school, don’t you think? I mean, just where do you see chalk any more? I’m even a teacher and I haven’t used chalk in several years. I, um, chalk it up to progress.

Chalk it up. That’s priceless.

Anyway, Melinda and I got home yesterday morning from the marathon and found this chalk-written message on our frig. Pretty nice, a thank you note from Andrea and Anna, Chloe’s two friends who spent the Thanksgiving holiday with us.

Truth be told, both girls were exceptionally nice, ideal house guests. Andrea, as I mentioned, is from Bolivia. Her mother even called FROM BOLIVIA to thank us for hosting her daughter. That’s classy.

There I am, at about the 7 or 8 mile mark of the half marathon in today’s Seattle Marathon. The conditions of the race were pretty bad. If this was a horse race, the track would have been labelled sloppy. But I ran my race, finishing in an unofficial chip time of 1h51m13s, a tad faster than my projection. Considering the wind, the sideways rain, and a large blister I developed on the bottom of my right foot because my feet were soaked, and I’m very pleased.

Checking the results, of the nearly 2800 men who participated in the half, I finished in 751st place, meaning I outran over 2000 men! I was 60th out of 293 in my age bracket, something for which I’ll take some pride, especially since this was my first half marathon.

A couple more things to note. First, kudos to Melinda for finding me to take this picture. The blurriness is kind of fun. No doubt, it has to do with my speed. I heard her call my name and looked up and tried to smile just as she snapped it. Second, what a crazy mess the start of the race was, thousands of people trying to get started in a tight spot. Because of that, the first mile was my slowest. 9 minutes! Lastly, you can learn more about the weather and the race by reading this article.

As I ran I was thinking of Laurent, especially the comment he made to me after he had finished the Nantes Marathon in April. As we celebrated his run with a festive meal that afternoon, he explained how a beer was good for your legs after a marathon.

That’s right. I’m about to have half a beer right now.