Seattle Tour Guide

by Lucky Red Hen on October 23, 2010

Not really, but I played one yesterday for an out-of-town friend.

We started with a REALLY good Thai dinner at a white house converted restaurant on W 45th just off I-5, Djan’s. Their tableware is lovely (hefty silverware) and ambiance cozy. Reminds me of Thai Village in American Fork, UT (same layout). He had Cashew Chicken; said it was extremely delicious but I didn’t try it (because he said he doesn’t share). My Panang with chicken was the best I’ve had; silky, creamy, right blend of seasoning with a mini kick of spice (I’ve succumbed to the fact that I am not able to eat more than 2 star spicy… nor toasted sandwiches or Capt’n Crunch).

Molly Moon’s Gourmet Ice Cream (down further on 45th in Wallingford) didn’t have too bad of a wait (usually the line is at least 15 people out the door; there were 4ish) so I finally got to go. I tried the Salted Caramel and Honey Lavendar, was in heaven with the latter. It. Was. Scrumptious.

Cruised down to Freemont to unveil the legendary Freemont Troll. At night the thing is quite awesome, especially if you come UP the road to it instead of from the side. The grafitti has been covered with cement, finally.

Next was a swing by Golden Gardens Beach before dropping him off at his hwy 99 hotel (that was in the boondocks; next time he’s checking with me on location). There was NO wind, it was dark with enough light by the full moon filtering through the night fog and a handful of groups were huddled around their fires, thankfully behaving.

{written from my iPhone in bed}

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I Eat Babies

by Lucky Red Hen on October 22, 2010

Plans changed today, so it worked out that My Lisa could come over with her yummy baby, Jordan.

Usually, I’m not a fan of babies (or kids, I’m very finicky). They are too demanding, can’t take care of themselves, won’t just say what they need and cry like babies. Hmph. Buuuuuut, sometimes I find myself liking one or two, here or there. And this one is a keeper.

Even though I made her think we were having lunch (brie, foccacia, grapes, roasted turkey), I spent my time snacking on her son. A little nibble here and there and voila! He’s gone. Except then she reminded me that he doesn’t sleep through the night, meaning a max of two hours of sleep at one time, and I don’t have breast milk to keep him alive.

So I gave him back.

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Do It = Done

by Lucky Red Hen on October 21, 2010


I just spent some time going into detail about last night’s local photographer get together and realized I was saying too much. I want to get straight to the point so I deleted it all.

If you want something done,
you have to DO IT.

It won’t do itself. Waiting/procrastinating makes things worse: you feel bad for taking so long, someone else may be waiting on you so you make them wait, someone else may beat you to it and you’ll do less things because they take so long.

That kicked me into gear and I finally hung some wall stuff (wasn’t so much the actual hanging that I was putting off, it was deciding what and where… for THREE years). My 7-year-old’s room got moved around and stuff on the walls, my 10-year-old now has a mini-shelf for a few mini-things, and our bedroom finally gets the collage of my hubby that was at our wedding 12 years ago.

P.S. I also vacuumed the dust bunnies, pine needles and, oops, that little black rubber thing that came off the hanger the other day.

P.S.S. Can you spy the witch and skeleton in the wall hangings picture? Happy Halloween :)

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Soap Opera Dispensers

by Lucky Red Hen on October 20, 2010

Soap drama in my house is kind of like TV Soap Operas. When you think you’ve solved one problem, another is created and sleeps with his wife’s sister who has amnesia.

We have two bathrooms and each has a liquid soap dispenser. One bathroom has a clear glass container, revealing the inside soap color. The other bathroom has the ceramic variety that you cannot see through.

The drama? Our master bathroom gets the liquid “gold” (Yardley’s Lavender Liquid yumminess) because that stuff is EXPENSIVE and I don’t want it wasted on people who won’t appreciate it. If you come to my house and promise to appreciate its glory, I will welcome you to use the master bathroom.

The hall bathroom clear liquid soap was all out and the next in line is the The Body Shop Satsuma. It’s BRIGHT ORANGE! That bathroom is not decorated with bright orange (white, muted yellow and light sage), so it clashed and drove me mad. The solution… exchange the containers.

DO YOU KNOW HOW ANNOYING IT IS TO SWAP LIQUID SOAPS? Lots and lots and lots of rinsing and rinsing and rinsing. Eventually, the continual bubble flow subsided and I transferred the soaps to their proper place.

Luckily, both styles of soap dispenser will work in either bathroom (design genius, you say? Perhaps. But totally by accident.)

{the universe is in order… for now}

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Quick Post Office Run

by Lucky Red Hen on October 20, 2010

Usually my post office only has one or two patrons and the line moves very fast. (Like that? I’m going to start using “patrons” in my sentences when applicable.)

That’s why I left the house today unshowered, unbrushed, unsupported (I’m a girl that’s usually supported in public), and uncoordinated (black t-shirt with pink “pub & pool” writing; gray, paint-stained, home-only sweats; and brown jersey zip up with frozen-in-time orange miniature crab bobby pin in my unkempt hair). Oh, and I didn’t bother to change into shoes so I wore red house slippers (I, personally, think it’s a fashion faux pas to wear house slippers and/or pajamas in public… unless it’s part of your Halloween costume ON Halloween or you’re going to a slumber party).

Thinking that I’d see MAYBE three people at all, and very quickly so they won’t remember what I looked/smelled like. Of course, Murphy’s Law, the line was to the door and it was moving slowly (thankfully the lady who’s difficult to understand because of her super heavy accent wasn’t working or it would’ve been slower). I couldn’t turn back. I told the recipients of these parcels that they’d go in the mail TO-DAY. So I sucked it up (whatever IT is) and pictured myself staying after school at the chalkboard, Bart Simpsonesque (click the link)…

Moral of the story: When you think you’re safe, you’re not.

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I'll Still Ride – Redmond Motorcycle Accident

by Lucky Red Hen on March 1, 2010

Yesterday was unlike any other I’ve had before.

It might have been life changing. It could have been life saving. I don’t know which.

We were heading 20 minutes away to the in-laws for Sunday dinner when we approached a motorcycle accident that had just barely happened. There was still a plume of smoke from the crushed bike several feet away, with a steady stream of broken yellow bike parts.

Some knob drove through the wreckage, crushing some of the pieces. What? They couldn’t be bothered with going around?

Traffic had stopped. Two guys were standing a couple feet away from the injured biker. He wasn’t moving. One of the guys was on his phone when I noticed the bikers arm move. The bystanders didn’t move closer, so I leapt out of the car, flipped off my slippers, and ran over in my socks to kneel close and provide comfort and advice to be still. I spoke into his helmet face opening so he could hear me.

His body was twitching in percussion with his arm movement as his eyes rolled back into his head. There was a little bit of blood on the pavement and some spots on his face, but I didn’t notice other obvious injuries. It seemed he was in shock as he seized so I talked to him calmly, telling him to stay with us, help was on the way, we’re right by him to keep him safe. I rubbed his torso, thinking that if his extremities were numb and in shock, then he might feel my touch if he couldn’t hear my words.

His twitching stopped, which made me nervous because the movement was a sure sign that he was still alive. Again, I told him to stay with us, we’re right here, help is on the way. I feel like I kept saying that over and over. I told him and the bystanders (one was on the phone with 911) that I was going to reach into his pockets for his cell phone to call family (probably not the best thing, looking back) but found his ID instead.

His name is Shawn (Shaun, Sean… I did not get a good look at his name, the guy on the phone read it to me).

Then he moved his hand toward his helmet to try and pry it off. “Shawn, leave your helmet on. You must keep your helmet on. Put your hands down and be still. Shawn, help is on the way, you’re going to be okay.” He rocked his legs to one side and moaned as if he were trying to get up. I kept telling him to be still, “Shawn, you need to be still.” It took a moment but his movement stilled. Finally, he looked right at me.

“Hi! You’re doing great. Just stay still. Help is on the way. We’re right here with you. You’re doing great. Stay with us.” I smiled and hoped he understood what I was saying. I want to believe he did.

“What happened? What’s going on?” Shawn asked, confused. I told him he was in an accident with his motorcycle but help is on the way and he’ll be fine. “I wasn’t riding today. I didn’t get on my bike today,” he replied. “Well, you did because I see it. It’s a yellow bike. I have an orange Harley. I’m a biker, too, that’s why I stopped to help you. You’re going to be fine, just be still. Can you tell me your name? My name is Shannon. What is your name?”


“Alright, Shawn, we’re right here with you and the ambulance is on its way. Just be still, you’re doing great!” I tried to sound encouraging, positive and full of hope.

He’d sharply blink and look around, again try to take his helmet off. He rubbed his forehead, smearing the blood, luckily not revealing an open would. He reached for his gloves, wanting to take them off. “Would you like me to take off your glove, Shawn?” He said, “Yes.”

As I unstrapped his glove, I found it was soaked. I got nervous that there was something bad underneath, but it turned out that the black & silver ring he wore on his right ring finger probably caused a cut, the source of the wetness. Looking back on it, perhaps I should’ve kept the glove on, but he kept trying to get it off and I wanted him to stay still. He would lay still for me, so I took the glove off. The other glove was too far away, so I told him he’d have to wait for that one to come off.

“Who are you?” he’d ask, looking at me. “I’m Shannon. I’m a biker too. I stopped to help you stay still,” I tried comforting him.

He’d keep asking what happened, and I kept answering him the same as before. “Where am I?” I told him we’re next to the Home Depot, on the street behind the store. “What happened?” he kept asking. “How did I get here?”

I was glad he was conscious and talking. His eyes were alert and the color in his skin seemed pink enough. He finally stopped trying to move, except to bend his knees and move his arm once in a while and seemed fine listening to me. I kept talking, trying to keep his attention. I told him when I heard the sirens approaching, “I hear the sirens, they’re getting closer and almost here! You’re going to be fine, you’re doing great.”

A Redmond, Washington police officer arrived. He saw that Shawn was alert, talking back to me and lying still. He radioed base and I handed him Shawn’s drivers license. He went on to take care of the traffic situation, I guess (I say that because I wasn’t paying attention what others were doing around me).

When the paramedics arrived, the EMT asked him to squeeze his finger. The gloved hand could a little and the ungloved right one barely moved. I told the EMT, “His name is Shawn. At first he was twitching with his eyes rolling back in his head. Once he stopped he tried taking off his helmet and moved his legs, trying to get up. I couldn’t find a cell phone but gave the officer his driver’s license. He’s been talking and following directions.”

Eventually I stepped away, professional life savers were there to take over. I gladly backed off so he could get care…

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Some of my awesome photographer friends and I want to do something to help the Haiti earthquake survivors so we came up with a plan to donate our time and talents in exchange for your donations.
On Sunday, February 21st,

will take some gorgeous pictures of you, your family, your teen, you with whomever… you get the idea.

The mini session will last for 30 minutes and you will get a disc of edited images by March 8th. Appointments are being taken on a first come, first served basis (ten spots already filled up). At least a $50 donation is required and ALL proceeds go to Haiti relief efforts (value is at least $350).
Email PortraitsForHaiti@jfkstudios.com for an application and information.
EDIT: The location is in Renton. As of 2/19 at 10:30am I have a few spots left: 3:30, 4 and 4:30. This is a SCREAMING deal because you’ll get at least 10 high-res files ($500 value) for just $50+ Haiti donation :-o

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Insulation (or Lack Thereof)

by Lucky Red Hen on September 30, 2008

Is attic insulation reeeally that important, I say (tongue in cheek)?

Yes, yes it is if you want to be warm and not have outrageous heating bills in the winter. On the flip side, it’d help keep the heat out in the summer too (this house gets hella hot when the temperatures outside rise, and it doesn’t cool down in the night).

We’ve had an estimator come in and give us the heart attack of bids *cough*3+k*cough* (we didn’t realize there was much more the house needed to make it energy efficient), then I had another company come today. He showed up two hours later than I expected (I said 10am, he wrote down noon), but didn’t take long and tried saving us money in the meantime…

Good advice that we can do ourselves:

  • mortise the duct work (matter of finger painting the goop into the crevices of the duct joins)
  • wrap the water pipes with Home Depot stuff (it’s about 99 cents for 6′)
  • pin the water pipes against the studs so they don’t clang when we have the washer going
  • send the 8yr old below to spread the vapor barrier in the crawl space (there’s even a roll already laying down there)

After talking about the bobcats and coyotes stealing his chickens (his lucky red hen wasn’t so lucky recently – may she RIP), he went out the garage door to load up his ladder.

His is RED
with yellow accents
(have you seen my kitchen?)
and I became covetous.

“Hey, wanna trade ladders? I love your red one!” I said with excitement (momma always said it never hurts to ask).

He looked at our less than six month old green with black ladder that is pretty much identical to his and said, “Sure, why not!” and walked out of the garage leaving me a happy girl.

Pretty sure we’ll be fine with his insulating estimate… it’s all about making the customer happy, right?

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