Our sweet Ruthie turns another year sweeter today. . . HOORAY!  Happy Birf-Day!!

Young love is so sweet. Amber and I are still coming up with cute little names for one another, always trying to out-do our previous efforts to flatter one another. We've got the normal combinations like "snuggle bear" and "baby cakes" down. And we've been venturing out into the kind-of-silly-but-still-sweet combos like "sweetie-heart" and "cuteheart." But every once in a while, when I try to think on the fly, things go awry.

Yesterday, I attempted to combine words from my available (but apparenly very limited) vocabulary and come up with a new, endearing term to call my cute wife. Here's what I came up with: "Sweetie ball."

Yes. I called my wife "sweetie ball." And not in the "You're a sweetie! Ballroom dancing sounds great!" kind of way. Just, "Hey sweetie ball." During the first two syllables, I was actually feeling pretty confident. "Sweetie" came out very nicely, Amber was all smiles, and everything seemed good.  But as soon as that "b" sound started rolling off my tongue, I knew it wasn't going to be good. I tried to stop myself, but I had already passed the point of no return. I could not recover the "ball." My only concession was that I think I was actually going to say "sweetie balls," so I at least avoided the plural

After it came out, rather than admitting my blunder, I did what every self-respecting male who has just done something incredibly silly would do: I just tried to act like it was normal. "Hey there, 'sweetie ball,' how are you?" But Amber, ever observant, noticed right away that she had been called "sweetie ball." She looked at me, half shocked, half about-to-laugh-her-head-off, and asked, "Did you just call me ... 'sweetie ball'?" All I could say was, "Yes ... but really I tried to stop."

So, my first piece of dating/marriage advice is make sure to think before you speak. If you just starting talking, you never know what will come out.

(No worries though. Amber is really nice and didn't give me a hard time about it. That's why she'll always be my sweetie ball.)

Google just came out with the best map program of all time. Check out http://maps.google.com/. It kicks the cheese out of MapQuest and MapPoint. You can enter a simple phrase like "asian markets in dallas" and you get something like this:

Also, if you're running out of space on hotmail, yahoo, or whatever you use for email, you might want to get a shiney, new GMail account. GMail is google's new email system where they give you a ton of space (1000 MB) for free. If you want an account, just let us know and I'll send you an invite.

Our wonderful friends bought us ten wonderful place settings from Villeroy & Boch. In the top center is the cappucinno mug and rotating clockwise is the triangle dessert plate, salad plate, dinner plate, and bowl. Yuummy!

My father-in-law is sweet. And when I say "sweet," I mean "totally awesome."

There is no fast food in my wife's family. They don't eat McDonald's, Wendy's, or White Castle. They don't need Kroger, Albertson's or Tom Thumb. That's because Bennie (or "Wrestles-Bears-With-One-Hand" as he is known to the natives) hunts, kills, guts, and smokes all the family meat. And this is no Texas "hunting" where one hides in a camouflage tree-tent 100 feet from a salt-lick waiting for a slow, stupid dear. This is Bowie-knife-in-mouth, bare-hand-mountain-climbing, only-take-one-bullet-with-you-cause-you're-such-a-good-shot hunting. One time last fall, he fell down a thirty-foot cliff, broke a his fall with his rifle (and his ribs), and still managed to take down five buffalo and two caribou.

Today, I didn't have time to make a lunch before work. When I looked in the fridge for something to grab, I saw that we still had some of Bennie's salmon. This summer, in a torrential rain storm off the coast off the coast of Oregon, he caught a load of deep-sea salmon (while saving five baby seals). He took them home, slow-smoked them over 12 days, and hermetically sealed them for our use. I have had salmon several times since the first time I had Bennie's Smoked Salmon, but nothing has come close to the flavor and richness of his handiwork!

By the way, I should also mention the Bennie is a man of rare and noble character. Amber tells me he was always a few minutes early to work, left a few minutes late, and wouldn't even take a company pen home to ensure he lived an honorable life. But he'd never tell you that - he'd just kindly offer you some delicious smoked meat.