We made a joint New Years Resolution this year. No we aren’t going to go on a diet—there is no imagination to that sort of resolution. Everyone knows that in order to lose weight, one must exercise more and eat less, and quite frankly I don’t want to do that just now. Swimsuit season is months away and my pants aren’t snug enough for drastic measures. Our resolution this year—clean the basement. I mean really clean the basement.

Ketchum, Idaho in the heart of the scenic Sawtooth Mountain Range is quickly becoming my second favorite town although its a close second to beer can (Burien.) Where else can you find an outdoor symphony or Huckabilly banjo concert every Monday, and kerchief-necked mongrels wandering the streets?

I recently received a Facebook invite from my son. I’m on his “Friend” list and thus far still included in any and all types of invites. The party invite seemed vaguely familiar—I guess the words “Catholic School” caught my attention because I coincidentally received an invitation to my daughter’s Catholic school auction on the same day—by snail mail. It wasn’t nearly as amusing. We opted to go to my son’s party, it sounded a bit more intrigueing.

An unlikely snitch solves the destroyed light-pole in downtown Burien, Washington.

Today was a banner day for my little nephew Sean. He had his favorite Aunt with the same first and last name attend his ’special-person’ school function. Sean and I are old hands at this sort of thing as we attended the same event but at a different school last year. I think it’s rather amusing how his mother changes the kids schools as often as I change a pair of socks. Guess that would leave me with rather stiff socks, so maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration.

My friend Dorkus and I attended The Pacific Northwest Writers Conference during which time I’m alternately brilliant and incredibly stupid during the entire three days.

Okay, my first spa treatment is accomplished . . . barely. Who knew that visiting Miraval Spa could be so stressful?