Hired Help

So every now and then, when I fill the washing machine with too many clothes, I hire this cute little girl from the local village to help stomp the laundry down and make more room. She does such an amazing job, I keep calling her back!

So Long, Sucka--I Mean, Summer!

We moved to Phoenix in December. The weather was beautiful.

I will admit that shortly after we arrived, I found myself wondering what all the complaining about Phoenix's hot weather was about. Admittedly, we moved here in during the best season of the year. Even as the months went on, though, and things started warming up, I couldn't help but think that people were exaggerating about how hot the summers are here. March went by, then April...sure it was getting warmer, but nothing unbearable. The evenings were still cool, and weather in the 90s is definitely not the worst thing that can happen in the world.

May came and it got even warmer. Then June, then July.

Then I became a believer.

The summers here really are that hot. And it's a 24/7 hot, too, with no breaks, no cool nights, no refreshing wind. Just a stagnant, oppressive, constant heat that keeps your A/C running all the live-long day, and sends sweat trickling down your back just from walking across the room to plug in the vacuum.

6 months of summer, that is our sentence.

I must interject that I absolutely prefer heat to cold, and I really do love living here, despite the lengthy summers. Still, though...

I don't mind at all being the first to say a friendly adieu to swim diapers, bathing suits, sunscreen, sandwiches for dinner, ridiculous electric bills, yellow grass, shorts, swim lessons, and a 125 degree garage.

Hello again to cool nights, nice breezes, evenings outside, open windows, pumpkin-scented candles, baking, soup for dinner, driving with the windows down, closed-toe shoes, and yes, even...pants.

Here is the part of the year where friends and family are jealous of where we live.

So, as "fall" slowly descends here in the Valley, I am smiling...and just a tiny bit smug.

The Big Night

Well, after months of climbing out of the crib, we finally made the move...to the big girl bed. (When I say "we," I really just mean Savanna. Craig and I have been in a big girl bed for at least a year now.) Savanna was a star, so excited for her own bed, and she really only gets out of bed every night about as much as she got out of her crib. Not too shabby. Here's a little photo documentation of the big night. (A couple nights later, I went in to check on the girls and found Savanna asleep on the floor and her bed covered in books. Go figure.)

A Sad Day in Laveen

This past Saturday, we were enjoying some family bonding time by perusing neighborhood garage sales when we happened upon a Foreclosure Open House for a house with the exact same floorplan as our house. We decided to be brave and check it out, trying to prepare ourselves for the worst. Both Craig and I threw out some low numbers as to our guess of the home's value, hoping against hope, of course, that the house was actually (maybe, possibly) worth even more than what we were thinking.

So much for hoping.

The house was selling for $118,000, which was $7000 less than our lowest guesstimate.

I tried to comfort us by pointing out that the foreclosed house didn't have all of the same things as ours...no finished backyard, a half bath where we have a full bath, ugly kitchen cupboards, linoleum where we have tile, etc. Surely all of those things add up to a difference of about $137,000 in value, making our house worth what we paid for it, right?

Here's to more hoping.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UgJKRvgWTwA