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It was chilly this morning. As I walked out in my bare feet to the suburban to take Ali to school, it felt a little cold to the touch. What is up with that? The weird thing is, bushes that have been only green since we moved here in June, all of a sudden with the slightly cooler weather are blossoming with flowers and color. Different bushes are blooming at different times of year, but something is always blooming. I like that.

I loved having Spencer here this past weekend. He brought a backpack for the whole 5-day weekend and that was it. All of his clothes shoved in a backpack. Oh Spencer, you are so low maintenance. Almost too low if you know what I mean. Luckily, I had saved a few things here so he had an extra shirt or two. He went surfing one day, two movies with sisters, and hanging with friends. We checked grades, which looked really good to me, so that was a relief.

Thanksgiving ended up being great. I thought we were going to have it alone, but we got invited to the Anderson's home to share it with them. Mark and Julianne were there, and as a fluke, Brett's other brother Brock and wife Kim were on a flight to Hawaii that got re routed to L.A. due to mechanical problems. So, they got to spend the day with us too. Kim helped me make pies all day and just after dinner, they were off to Hawaii. It was a really great day.

The Anderson women. The matriarch of the family Pat on the left. Becca, in the middle, is attending culinary school, so she helped up the food enjoyment. I want to attend culinary school. My new friend Stacy on the right. I like Stacy a lot. Thanksgiving was casual, comfortable, lots of food, and in this new house of theirs, they have soft drinks on tap. Right next to the water. What more could the kids ask for?

Kim and Ali posing because they were matching. Kim, what's with the arm?

Mark, Spence, Brock, Brett. This was taken after the Turkey Bowl, which every one of them said they played amazing in. They are skyping mom and dad Blake in Germany in this picture. Spencer, why do you never smile? Look how much better it looks when people smile.

Interesting story about the Turkey Bowl. Ali took Kate to watch the guys play, while I ran to LAX and picked up Brock and Kim with Maddie. Ali ended up leaving the game early to take food the homeless shelter in downtown L.A. and Brett told her to leave Mark's wedding ring, which she was holding for him, on the suburban bumper. Pause. I said the same thing. Why would he tell her to leave it there? So, exactly as you have probably guessed, Brett ended up leaving after the football game, forgetting about the ring.

When they realized what they had done, the guys went back to the parking lot and looked for an hour or more. They tried to drive the same way home that they drove before, but still no luck. All day Ali said, "It's not my fault! Dad told me..." and Mark gave us all a little grief over losing his beloved ring.

Get this. Later that night, after it was dark, Mark's wife's sister's husband (are you with me?) was driving around town. He lives here you see, so driving around town at night is a completely normal thing for him to be doing. I think he knew Mark lost the ring, but not where. He saw something shiny in the street. Yep. He pulled over and there in the street was Mark's wedding ring, a little banged up, but right there in his sweaty little palms. In his case, they were probably big palms and most likely not sweaty at all. What a completely random find! Or was it?? Coincidence or as my little friend Jane likes to say, Tender Mercy?

Here I am with the beautiful Ballard sisters. Shauna is on the left (the wife of the lucky ring finder) and Julianne, my sis-in-law who was responsible for leading us to La Canada, is in the middle.

Further news and complete change of subject. You know how I am sort of, well, polka dotted? One of those polka dots on my back was recently judged as "severely atypical" by a lab at UCLA hospital and the doctor personally called me to tell me to get in there and have it taken out. "Don't worry. It isn't cancerous yet. It's just as far on the atypical scale as it gets before it becomes cancer. We don't like those type of cells at all and we just need to get it out. Now."

So, being a little sensitive about the word cancer right now, I got it taken out this week. Here's the thing. The doc said I could either have a 3 inch line down my back (stitches) or a round crater if you will. My friend Melinda analyzed my energy type once, and I am all about round. My eyes, my face shape, which then even influences my clothing choices--round collars, round earrings. There is nothing angular about me or my energy. So, I thought about it for about 5 seconds and told the doc, "No big line scar for me. I want you to just cut it out and I'll have a round scar."

Ugh. I have regretted that decision from the moment I said it. It's bigger than I thought it would be. Also, because when Brett went to change the bandage, words like, "wow" and "whoa" slipped out of his extremely otherwise sensitive mouth. I quietly cry every time anyone looks at it. He says it looks like a bullet hole in the middle of my back. No big deal right? So why is it then?

As I was lamenting my decision again this morning, wondering why I wouldn't want a clean line instead of a big round scar, Brett said words meant to be comforting. "Erin, think what a cool grandma you'll be. You can tell the grandkids Mr. Creeps stories (like the ones my dad told my kids) and you can say that as you were running away, Mr. Creeps shot you in the back. Then if the kids don't believe you, you can show them your wound and they'll love it!" Thanks? Oh and then there was this line..."Well, it's not like you're a supermodel or anything. It's not going to ruin your runway or photoshoot career. Wow. Whoa." Ha ha. I liked that one. Really, I don't obsess about stupid stuff like this normally. I just have felt vulnerable this week, and I guess that because the reason is the C word, I am obsessing a little bit. I have to go in next week so the doc can "re-look" at my other, um, polka dots now that he knows I am severely atypical. I could have told him that already. There's no way that doc won't want to cut out more. It will never end!

Well, it never fails. Blogging, writing makes me feel good. A good creative outlet for me when I don't have many other creative outlets at this exact moment. Working on that! e