Scott and I went on our first date many years ago. I was a junior in high school. He was a senior. I remember he asked me out during 6th period—Speech and Debate–if I wanted to go to a Diamondbacks game that night (I’m sure I was probably plan C). A bit surprised, I agreed and he picked me up a couple of hours later. I remember him (who could ever forget it? Or let him forget it?) parking his father’s big red truck in reverse over a curb and into a much-too-small-perhaps-not-even-real parking space in downtown Phoenix. I remember our great seats, just behind first base. I remember wandering off to the “bathroom” so I could buy and consume a hasty snack before heading back to my seat (for whatever reason I was too embarrassed to actually admit I hadn’t had dinner). I remember having a good time—although I don’t remember anything specific about our conversation.

And then, I remember him asking my best friend out the next weekend, not being upset by it in the least, and then joining them on multiple double dates throughout the remainder of the school year as they steadily dated. Yes, we have history.

Who would have thought, ten years later that Scott and I would still be going on dates to baseball games?

I’ve heard a lot about Huntington Park last summer while working at the Columbus Dispatch and wanted to go check it out. But, with Scott clerking in San Antonio and the arrival of our little Amelia, it never actually happened.

I’m glad we had the opportunity to go this past weekend on a beautiful summer evening. We had dinner at Buca de Bepo and made it to the game a bit late (we waited till the sun went down, so it wouldn’t be in our eyes).

We sprawled out on the grassy seating in the far left outfield. Enjoyed a twisted ice cream cone. Snuck into better seats behind home plate. Challenged each other to casually and accurately throw baseball slang into our conversation during the evening: Man, that dinner the other night sure was a homerun. After a bit of debate (and perhaps lack of agreement), I think I even won: 5-4.

Needless to say, I remember having a good time at this baseball game too.

Life in OH-IO, Lonica Stuff | 1 Comment »

It wasn’t long after Jenny had moved—maybe a week?—that we decided we missed each other and needed to get together. After a little Google Search, we discovered that Cambridge, OH is nearly halfway between Columbus and Morgantown, VA—only 90 minutes away. (It turned out to be a little longer of a drive for Jenny, unfortunately). After a little more Google Searching, we discovered that Cambridge, OH is the proud owner of a community pool. We decided that the 95 degree heat was the perfect opportunity for a good swim.

Scott came home early the night before and fixed his muffler (thanks!) on our falling apart car, so that I could arrive in air conditioned style. Early Tuesday morning, I loaded up our car with swimming toys, picnic lunches, sunscreen, and swimsuits. We headed off to meet up with our friends.

We had a good time hanging out together, catching up, and watching our kiddos splash around in the water.

The kids really were great, until Amelia decided that a 45 min. nap wasn’t going to cut it for an entire day of fun. She lost it and we quickly headed off home again.

I don’t imagine this will be our last foray to Cambridge, OH, though, as I discovered they also have glass blowing exhibits/museums, public parks, and scenic train rides. I think Seth really will need to ride that train…

Life in OH-IO, Lonica Stuff, Road Trips | 3 Comments »

If there’s one thing Ohio—and subsequently, Columbus—is good at, it’s being the perfect version of everything ‘American’. Fields and fields of corn wave in the summer heat. Apples are ripe for the picking amongst golden fall foliage. Farmer’s Markets dot the city throughout the long growing season, resplendent with peaches, peas, peppers, tomatoes, and homemade apple pies. Football takes center stage come September. Neighborhoods, established way back in 1830, showcase white-picket-fenced homes and blooming flower gardens.

Essentially, if there is anything that comes to mind when thinking “America”, Ohio most likely offers it. This is a great thing. I love Ohio for these reasons.

But, if there is one time in which Columbus goes all out, it comes around the middle of the summer. They certainly know how to do the Fourth of July right. They manage to funnel all their Buckeye Sprit (and if you know Buckeyes you know there’s quite a bit of spirit) and Ohio American-ness into this one holiday that spreads over the course of an entire four-day weekend.

With Jym Ganahl forecasting clear, sunny skies and highs in the upper seventies, we got ready to soak up the spirit of America in a city that knows how to do it right.

Friday night, we left Amelia behind, to fight the crowds at Red, White, and Boom. We managed to catch the tail end of the parade and sample a vast assortment of fried foods for dinner. Later, staking out our territory on the grassy lawn just north of the river, we people watched, camera practiced, and sipped the (festival requisite) lemonade.

Just before 10 o’clock, the sky lit up with big, beautiful fireworks. Scott and I had a grand time testing out our photography skills and ‘oohhing’ and ‘aaahhhing’ at the results as they appeared on our little LCD screen.

The next day, Saturday, we included Amelia—decked out in all her Patriotic finery—in the fun when we headed over to our friends for a backyard picnic and sparkler session. Amelia sampled her first Bomb Pop and declared it Good. The food was yummy. The sparklers were great. And the company was even better.

Sunday, marked the true 4th of July and we celebrated by sporting our red, white, and blue attire to Church. (Side note: Why is it perfectly acceptable to deck yourself out in patriotic clothing at the 4th, but not really at any other time of year? The same enthusiasm with red and green at Christmastime would just look bad. ) We also finally remembered to hang up our flag out front. Later that night, Scott and I snuck down the street (leaving a sleeping baby behind) to catch glimpses of the nearby fireworks as they broke just above the horizon.

Not to end the weekend too soon, we endured our neighbor’s own fireworks and poppings all day Monday. They were perhaps the most hardcore of all the revelers. Night or day they never really left the lawn chairs permanently encamped on their front lawn. There was never a cold beverage too far from their hands and a sparkler, rocket, or bottle cap too difficult for them to light. By the time the sun set Monday night, we were amazed at their continued patriotic spirit. Really, though, it just added a surround-sound element to our watching of the televised fireworks over the Hudson River.

With perfect weather, entertainment around every corner, and good times had by all, we really couldn’t ask for more out of any Fourth of July. It certainly beats sweating in the 110 degree Phoenix heat as you wonder how many more booms there will be before you can head home to the AC.

Columbus Festivals, Life in OH-IO, Lonica Stuff | 4 Comments »

This summer, Scott and I have made a more concerted effort to take off on our own once a week—that means no Peanuts invited. Thanks to the help of friends (the Beans make the best neighbors) and some young women, we’ve gone to dinner, seen a movie, browsed the Columbus Arts Festival and gone to WaterFire Columbus.

What’s WaterFire Columbus? Good question. It’s basically an excuse to have another pseudo-festival that involves rather weak “bonfires” along the river, a live jazz concert, and the requisite lemonade stand.

Regardless of the somewhat lackluster entertainment—Zoot Suit Riot is really best appreciated with an enthusiastic dancing partner—we had a fun time taking pictures and soaking up the ambiance.

You couldn’t ask for a better ambiance…

Life in OH-IO, Lonica Stuff | 4 Comments »

In case you haven’t met her already, you really should by now. Let me tell you why…

Jenny is the best friend every girl needs when your family lives on the other side of the country.

She’ll let herself in at your back gate and ‘knock’ on your sliding door; cook you dinner at least once a week; and invite you over on Sundays when you’ve just gotten into town and your fridge is empty.

She provides a good excuse for leaving the house on a snow-filled February day; she makes folding laundry entertaining; and she always has something to talk about.

Jenny is the friend who can talk you into training and participating in a Triathalon when you have absolutely no athletic ability. And she’ll even make it fun.

Jenny is always up for an adventure. She’s good at planning and scheming up new ideas and fun things to do. Whether it’s hiking Mammoth Caves…

Picking apples and calling in her husband to rescue us when the car breaks down…

Biking to the lake or taking a walk around the ‘K Streets’…

Attending any and every festival we could find…

or bowling with three small kiddos. Jenny is always up for a good time and the creating of fun memories.

She’s the friend who can always make you laugh. Plus, she thinks your annoying sarcastic sense of humor is appealing—or at least not offensive. You can be yourself around Jenny.

Her specialty is diaper cakes and you can consider yourself lucky to be the recipient of such a wonderful treasure hunt. She knows how to make even the little things special.

She will loan you an entire maternity wardrobe and then pretend like she’s never seen the “fantastic” top you’re wearing in her presence. She’ll tell you that you look great when you feel nothing but fat. She’ll visit you in the hospital and shower your baby with kisses. She’s the friend who will call before 9:00 am just to see how your night with the new baby went—and continue to ask (and care) even after your little one is sleeping through the night.

She is the best shopping companion a girl could ask for—whether it’s garage sales, thrift stores, the mall or IKEA—she can help you debate on the nuances of any purchase (much to your husband’s annoyance). And she’s always good for a project: from crafts to refinishing furniture, she’s willing to participate.

It’s amazingly difficult to get a good picture with a three-year-old photographer, but sometimes the worst photos are the best memories.

Jenny will care about every new, little trick your offspring masters—from sitting, to rolling, to crawling, to waving, she cares about it all. She will comment and compliment even the smallest wardrobe details. She has a knack for keeping homesickness (and missing your mom) at bay.

She also, unfortunately, has a tendency to move away (something about her husband continuing residency in West Virginia…). It’s easy to let the excuse slide, though, for all she does to make up for it–like sticking around for an extra year to keep me sane. Jenny makes everything that much better and I’ll miss her all the more for it.

P.S. Jenny and I have been asked on many occasions if we were sisters–one instance when I was very pregnant and Jenny was just days from delivery Joseph and no one believed we weren’t, stands out in memory. Obviously we’re not, but I like to think of our friendship as something of a sisterhood. We operate on such a similar wavelength we even dress alike coincidentally.

Life in OH-IO, Lonica Stuff | 6 Comments »