Just a Happy Little Post

Whew! That was a heavy last post. Thank you all for your lovely and insightful comments. I half expected something a little harsher - and that's what traumatic conditioning does to you - so it was quite uplifting to have you all at my back. Have I told you recently, just how wonderful I think all of my readers are? Your feedback sustains, delights, and amazes me on a regular basis. I love ya'll!

And with that segue way, so very reminiscent of what my husband sounds like after a few drinks, here we are at the drinking portion of the program:

I think it was well past this point last year when Bea and I started our Saturday afternoon cocktails series, and no doubt, you've wondered if we've climbed aboard the wagon, what with the dearth of liquor pictures. Fear not gentle readers, (does anyone else here love Miss Manners as much as I do?) the Captain has turned off the no drinking, no smoking (what do you do? Adam Ant - Gack) sign and you may now move about the cabin, drink in hand.

We've been on a red wine kick lately, because Honey hears it's good for the ole ticker. Bea has always been a red fan, so I've been letting her lead us in selecting varietals (Oooh! Tea and scones! Very grand wording for such a cheap bouteille!). Usually a glass of wine is enough to give me a splitting headache, but the Pinot Noirs have been a delightful exception, so glug, glug, glug, ya'll!I think my drinking companions might not be enjoying the photo-op; note the knife being held like it's a middle finger. This is a direct result of Honey hanging out with the men in my family, for whom no picture is complete without an obscene finger gesture, or at the least, an unzipped fly. In a rare fit of practicality, Bea has actually dug a coat out of the closet and put it on. This is big people - do you have any idea how hard it was to get her to wear shoes, much less put a coat on? The girl's a damn hippie! And on an unrelated note, I was out walking the other day and spotted this little feral cat. I love the eyeliner on him/her (I think it's a her - the head is pretty small for a feral male), and with that coat, this could almost be one of those African wildcats that the domestic breed is supposed to be descended from. She's watching the boys intently, which is how I was able to take this shot at all. I guess a herd of boy elephants can be a good thing, but you didn't really hear that from me, okay? Ahh, an idyllic moment! This is one of those moments you really want to take a picture of, just so you can wave it in their faces later, when they're fighting like savage dogs, and say, "See? You do too like each other!" Kids...woof. Is it five o'clock yet?

I've been woefully slack in my reading this week (of blogs; I did finish an Ursula LeGuin novella and series of short stories, and started reading Dr. Dolittle to the boys - all three boys. That husband of mine...!) but I am determined to get caught back up with all of you.

But first, I have to go to art class with the fourth graders and finish my face mug! It's a little embarassing how excited I am to do that, especially since I've been peddling books to kids for three days at the school book fair - you'ld think I'd be sick of all those kids, but nope!

Oh Crikey, Another Photo-Op

Yeah, yeah, I know it's pushing on into January - I have the extra year on my age to show for it (Whoops! did I just admit I had a birthday?), but I just couldn't resist putting up a few pics of what we did over the holidays, because who doesn't love to look at yet more holiday photos?

The mushroom fairy my sister made, with her very own mushroom!

The kids are getting big enough to wonder why the windows are dark in this picture. Surely it isn't that Mom was up when Santa got here? I love the way the tree glows with the luminescence of 9 million lights (an exaggeration, but not by much!)

The guys were spying on the girls up the street, and the Bohemian made his hat fit the job. He cracks me up the way he can rig just about anything. Oh and the fact that he's a hamosaurus too - look at that mug!

The undercover agents but on their bad-assed personas.

The new Mushoonga swords are awesome to play with! Can you almost hear the lightsaber noises I'm making?

"And I see your Schwartz is as big as mine!"Yeah, I let them watch Spaceballs recently. I like to think of it as giving them a much-needed lesson in machismo, as well as stand-up material.

And while the guys get a little exercise, taking out all their aggressions on each other, Mom makes yet another batch of cookies! (I think I must have made more than 12 batches of different cookies over the holidays - god knows, my gut would corroborate that.)"I'm going to push myself away from the bourgeoisie table of life and say, 'No more jello (or cookies for that matter) for me, Mom!' "- Peggy Sue Got Married)

Can I just say that I loathe the color of my kitchen? When we finally get around to re-doing it, about the time the floor falls in, or the countertop chips even further off, I'm going to eradicate every drop of that heinous dusty rose/maroon the previous owners chose. The 1980s color scheme of federal blue and dusty rose makes the orange and avocado green of the 1970s, or the pink and turquoise of the 1950s look downright chic and savvy.

Blah-Blah, Let Me Sum Up, Blah-Blah

I sit down at the computer and my mind goes blank. It's really a pain in the ass, because when I'm standing in the shower my mind is churning up all sorts of ideas, and how the hell do you write them down in the shower? By the time I get out, towel off, and get dressed, it's all gone.

dammit.

In spite of all the events (100th birthday of a recently dead person, 50th anniversary of my parental units (OY!), a massive solstice party, and general Ho-ho-ho-ing) that were going on the weekend before Christmas, somehow I was able to suspend my anxieties and need to control the uncontrollable, and actually have a good time. That may sound silly, or inconsequential to you, but to me it was grrrreat! I can usually work up a good stress on command, over just about anything, but this year I adopted the "Jimmy Crack Corn" philosophy and let somebody else do the worrying.

After hosting 36 people for the Solstice on the 21st, having a dinner party for 10 people on Christmas Eve seemed really easy, almost effortless, comparatively. I am good at it, but anyone could be, given a little planning and organization.

The very best part of this past Christmas was just hanging out with my guys. The last two weeks were so relaxing that we were all more than a little grumpy this morning, having to get back to work, school, etc. "Only three more months until Spring Break, guys!" I cheerfully informed my tearful tween and his morose, younger sidekick.

(Sometimes it's horribly and sadistically satisfying to cop a positive attittude in front of the kids - don't judge me if you don't have kids, and if you do, seriously, give it a shot - it always cheers me up!)

So how are you all doing?

Where Have I Been?

I am not sick, I am not in crisis; I am in the middle of a life, that includes at least three other people in it, and right now, they have to come first.

When I started this blog thing, a little over a year ago, I didn't know whether I would like it, stick with it, etc. It's been a learning experience, to say the least! I've found that I cycle through assorted emotions about blogging. Some days I could sit down and write two or three posts, other days I just want to walk away, and through it all I still have another job. I am a mom. A full-time, stay at home mom, and I take it seriously. There is no dropping the kids off at day care, or picking up take-out for dinner in my job. I make just about every meal we eat from scratch; I bake every cookie my family eats; I make and pack every lunch my kids eat; I check every page of homework, and help troubleshoot projects that are looming. I run our lives and it's my job to make sure everything goes smoothly.

So right now, I'm not here in the blogosphere, because I'm at work. This upcoming weekend we will be kicking off the holidays with a whirlwind trip to Richmond, to celebrate the 100th birthday of my husband's grandmother. She didn't make it to her 100th birthday - she died a week and a half ago - but her family stills wants to remember her and celebrate her life.

The very next day, we have to be back in Raleigh for my parents 50th anniversary. It is an occasion that has many gradations of emotion to it, and not all of them are happy emotions, but some of them are, and we will be there with our happy faces on.

The day after that, I'm throwing my annual Solstice party, which has become a family tradition over the years, and is usually quite jolly. This one promises to be the biggest Solstice party ever, due to the large number of out-of-town guests coming for the 50th bash. I'm a little frazzled - I've never hosted a sit-down dinner for 40 before - but so far (knock on wood) everything is getting done on schedule.

I have been cleaning, baking, wrapping, shopping, planning, for a month, on top of my usual job requirements. We lost a precious weekend of getting ready because we had to attend the funeral for my husband's grandmother, and I've had the dubious responsibility of assembling a pictoral slide show for the 50th bash as well.

So you see, as much as I love this blog, and all my blog-buds, I've had to put it all on the back burner for the time being. I'm wrestling with whether or not I want to continue as well - one cannot deny that blogging requires a fair chunk of time to do it well, and I have to decide whether or not it's worth spending the time on, and how to do that without shirking my real job. No doubt, I will be back, but how often remains to be seen.

A Tale Told By A Nine Year Old

...Full of sound and fury, and the occasional political snippet. I present to you, my son the Bohemian's turkey saga:

One Thanksgiving Turkey

One particular Thanksgiving a very special turkey was on my table. This is the unusual story of that turkey and how he came to be there.

Joe Turkey was born on a turkey farm, just like other turkeys, and he lived in a pen with his brother turkeys. He looked like all the other turkeys but Joe was different. He was smarter than the other turkeys, and he didn’t want to end up as someone’s dinner. Every day he wondered, would today be his turn? Would he end up being killed to make a nice Thanksgiving dinner? One day, at last, he found out it was his turn! He had to find a way to not get killed, but how? He had no time to think of a plan. Suddenly the pen gate opened. One of the turkey farmers came in to get another turkey. Joe ran out as fast as his turkey drumstick legs could carry him!

Although he was scared, Joe kept running. He didn’t want to get killed! A man jumped out from behind Joe and grabbed him. Joe sunk his talons into the man’s face, and he kept running. “Get that turkey!” a man shouted. Joe ran into a barn to hide. As he was looking for something to disguise himself with, he heard a sound behind him. It was Joe Biden, the soon to be new Vice President of the United States. He had given a long speech to the turkey farmers earlier that day and was taking a nap in the barn.

Wham! The barn doors slammed as the turkey farmers came into the barn. They were holding axes, and pitchforks. “Hey!” yelled Joe Biden. “What are you doing in here with those?” One turkey farmer spoke, “We’re here to kill that turkey!” There was Joe, and Joe Biden. Joe Biden licked his lips. “Looks like dinner to me, let me tell you some thing about Joe Biden, Joe Biden likes a good turkey dinner.” One turkey farmer said “get that turkey!” Joe flew out of the barn skylight. The farmers stabbed the ground.

Then Joe fell down out of the sky. He must hide. Slash! An ax fell next to him. It was Joe Biden! Away the hobbling turkey ran. But Joe was snatched by a turkey farmer. A boy held him on the block and, slash! Joe’s bloody head fell in a bucket. Then Joe’s headless body was plucked and papered (prepared, dammit - I missed this one in the editing!). Later my mom bought his body at the store. Joe‘s body was roasted with a delicious stuffing. And that is the story of how he came to be on my table, on this special Thanksgiving day.

This, I feel, is a story destined to be a classic, right up there with the Story of The Mince - an old family favorite (What? You've never heard of a Mince? The small, badger-like creature that was originally the contents of the now-famous pie? Come on...really? Sheesh...!)

Happy Turkey Day to all!

Busy, Busy, Busy

It's like gasoline on a flame-

I'm doing a week-long lecture on North Carolina pottery and the origins of the face jug, starting later today. Oh, and I'm giving my lecture to 4th graders who will be making their own face jug in the coming weeks. I'm just sick enough to be excited about it too.

I'll be in later this week and catch up with everyone on my blogroll. Hope everybody had a great weekend!

A few of my babies (the pottery, not the books)

Addendum: I guess I should have clarified - I'm giving a lecture on NC pottery and using pieces of my collection (and Bea's) to illustrate. I did not make these - I wish I did, but who has the space or money to build a groundhog kiln, much less burn one? Nope, they're just a part of my collection!

An Unexpected Occasion

I had really hoped to get down to Holden Beach this weekend, to see Bennie's show and get to meet the man himself, but Fate had other plans for me. And if you get the chance, go read Bennie today - he had a horrid weekend at the show and yet, he still perseveres and tries to find the silver lining. I'm thinking of you Bennie, and sending all the good karma I can your way.

Ms. Q tossed us an early Christmas present and got tickets for the "Walking With Dinosaurs Live" that was in town. The boys are humongous dinosaur fans - they know more than I do - and are currently involved in making and educating a vast army of toilet paper roll based prehistoric critters, so obviously they were cheesed beyond delight to attend the show.
It really was a wonderful show; the stage effects were half the fun, with plants and flowers unfurling in front of our eyes, the paleontologist's droll narrative kept the pace moving, and of course, the dinosaurs were fab! I wish my pictures were sharper - my camera just isn't that great in low light - but you get the idea of how it looked.

Allosaurus and Brachiosaurus rumble in the jungle until the volcanoes make everyone head for cover.

Allosaurus back at harassing the brachiosaurs
I thought the volcano effect was awesome!

The flowers that grew up along the stage edge were fantastic. I heard someone behind me compare them to The Wizard of Oz, but I think they were even cooler, the way they used air to inflate them up and down.

A pair of Taurosaurs go at it for territory

And the winner grazes alonside of an Ankylosaur

Until the T Rexes come to town and clear the stage!It was a great show, and if you get the chance to see it, I highly reccomend it. This is one of those moments I don't miss not having little girls, because for me, I would much rather be watching this than Disney Princesses on Ice, or Hannah Montana in concert.

Thank you again Ms. Q - you rock it the best!

Ain't No Sunshine

"You junk punch him in his man business, then when he's writhing on the floor, crying "Why?", you point your finger at him and say, "YOU know why!"
- What Happens in Vegas

I don't know what that quote has to do with anything I'm going to write, but ever since Ms. Q brought that movie over we've been saying it. It just makes me smile, and I need all the smiles I can muster right now.

The Professor is home sick this week - the usual fever/sore throat/runny nose crud found in the ever incubating petri dish that is public school. Yay.

I have a genealogical consult on Thursday, that I've put off finishing the charts for, because the data for this one family branch went on for a week and a half in a tee-einy font. Turns out it looked that long because some of the same data was plugged into more than one spot, making one guy both 7th and 8th generation; uncle to himself. I spent my morning yesterday researching everybody in those two generations, in between nursing my pasty, hacking, snot machine of a child. Because that just enhances my ability to focus, see?

Can you tell I'm cranky? Yeah, maybe just a teensy bit. It wouldn't have anything to do with going to two grocery stores, buying just the basics and having 70.00 left for the next two weeks. The cost of eating real food is ridiculous anymore, and doesn't leave me any cushion for the necessary Runaway Mama Sushi Night Fund. That's bad people: mothers who don't get a break are far more likely to have their heads explode, causing trauma to their children and pain to their spouses (see above quote).

Brother can you spare some sushi?

Mammaries, Like The corners of My Boobs

I'm sorry - that was a completely miseading title, wasn't it? I'm a firm believer in paraphrasing sappy ass songs, and that is one of my personal bests. Unfortunately, I'm not allowed to sing the rest of it to you - it's somewhat blue (somewhat - ahahahahaha!), and I was actually going somewhere else with this post.

Ahem...!

It's hard to believe how fast time goes by. It was only last week, it seems, that I was holding my first born, freaking out over the immense responsibility I had taken on. And now, in the blink of an eye or two, it's 11 years later, and my little Professor is on his way to teendom. What the hell happened? I haven't gotten any older, how did he? At any rate, he's still one of my very favorite people in the whole wide world, and not just because he lets me ramble on and on about the English Reformation and the Birth of Piracy in the New World ("I could just listen to you talk forever, Mom") What a delightful suck-up!

Happy Birthday Professor! (singing, "and many moooore!")

Summertime

It's mid-August and summer is passing before my lazy eyes. The flower beds have been beaten down by heat and Japanese beetles, and all that remains to delight the eye are the rogue flowers of the climbing weeds, like cow itch or morning glories. They creep into the beds and up the trees, hide under the bee balm and Gerber daisies, waiting for their moment to emerge. It's almost like they know; I haven't the heart to destroy anything that blooms in late summer. I haven't the heart for many things right now. With the passing season comes the reality that I have to do something about Jasper. Right now, and for a few months more, it'll be warm enough for her to live comfortably outdoors, but come late October, maybe November if it stays warm, I have to say goodbye and ease this old cat out of life. She's the last of the cats from our college years, and the end of an era, and in spite of her random piddling ways, I love her and will miss her. With her goes that last tangible thread that led to my youth, my life before this one.

Ever onward and upward, still, it's hard not to look behind as you leave a chapter forever. The kids are gone this week, up to visit with my sister. The silence is wonderful, and soul refreshing, but I miss the nectar of their sweet laughter and warm hugs.
My garden, seemingly empty and bereft, in spite of being overgrown, but hidden green peppers burgeon and ripen in anticipation of the boys' return. And ripe tomatoes make BLTs sublime. On Friday, August 15, I will be guest posting over at A Work of Art for Bennie Waddell, who's on vacation. Come check it out!

On The Edge of Reason

It sounded like a good idea at the time:

With school out I haven't had any real need to have a car every day, and since the hub-man is still driving the Grandma-mobile (a 1987 Chrysler with only 50,000 miles on it - oh, and no AC.), it made sense to let him have my beloved Toyota Corolla ("Take you there, it will - cost you much, it won't" - Yoda). We could save on filling up two tanks with gas and he could ride in air conditioned comfort during the dog days of summer. We want to buy a new car, but where was the sense in making car payments all summer when we didn't have to? Oh yeah, we're some farty-smarties, being all frugal.

Reality Check:
I have two of the best behaved kids in the world - no really, they're good guys. They are kids though, so some days they bank off of the walls; some days they're evil as snakes, and fight with each other. Putting them to work calms them down like magic, and banning them from playing together for the rest of the day invariably makes it irresistable for them stay away from each other for long. They're easy, more or less - it's the fractious, antsy, twitchy mom I'm having problems with.

I feel like I'm trapped at home, drowning under an ocean of dirty clothes and monotony. While it's great to be able to stay up and sleep in, I miss my quiet time in the morning, after the guys are at school. I could think. There wasn't any chirping, "Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom,Mom..." ad nauseum. It hasn't helped that the hub-man has had to work longer hours lately, on a fairly important project at work, so there's no grown up besides me until 8 or 9 some nights. And when he's tired, he's not much better than a grumpy toddler, really. So yeah, I'm jonesing for some grown ups. Did I mention that Bea is leaving me next week? Psychotic break-time, anyone?

My oldest cat, Jasper, is on her last leg these days. She's become so incontinent we've had to keep her outside, the guilt of which impels me to feed her three times a day and change her water, replete with ice cubes. I also set up a bed for her arthritic old bones to lie upon, but come fall, if she hasn't just turned up her toes, I'm going to have to do the deed and gas her. This, of course, isn't much of a mood booster.

Just like the sun, when it goes behind a cloud, I know things will clear up, all will be resolved, and I will be back to my usual self. It's just in the meantime, "I'm looking down, Shrek!"

A Different Kind of Infestation

Because you asked for it (well, Kelley did, anyway), here, now, for your entertainment and enlightenment, I present to you:

Legos vs Imaginext, in

The Battle For The Middle of The Living Room

You might think having an insect infestation in your house is annoying and bothersome, but I'm here to tell you there IS something worse. It's an infestation of plastic and if it's ever happened to you, then you know what I'm talking about; chances are you were the boob who brought it into the house in the first place.

The Phantom Shark as the steed of the Imaginext's leader, Italian Guy (I don't make this stuff up - this is really his name, according to the guys)

Below, the Puppet Master, aka the Bohemian, dangles a reconnaissance mission over the battlefield. This is serious stuff, people - look at that face - does he look like this is FUN?

The dinosaurs add a terrifying aspect to the battle, and are also quite painful to step on in your bare feet, in the dark.

The Professor arranges his men in a replication of one of Napoleon's battles. Or it was a replication, before the dinosaurs showed up and freaked out the Lego guys. Then it was total chaos - oh yeah!

A big fan of little chewable things, Simon gets into the picture and takes out a few dinosaurs for the Lego side. Don't you feel like this is one of those blockbuster fantasy films, uncannily unfolding on my living room floor? ("The Chronic - what? - Cles, of Narnia")

The Legos' leader plans his strategy, while his honor guard stands by.

And there you have it - the horror, the carnage, the living hell that is my living room floor these days. And you thought you wanted to see it, that you could handle the truth. It isn't pretty, is it?

(But it was an awful lot of fun to take pictures of!)

A Week at the Beach

At last! The epic saga of our trip to the beach. We left Saturday morning and headed east. About lunchtime, as we were getting ready to pass through Williamston, I remembered that there used to be a barbeque place we would pass, coming from Greenville, back in our college days. We looked around and there it was! Of course we stopped - I love eastern Carolina barbeque! It's always a good sign that there's a brisk business going on, and even at 2 PM there were folks waiting in line for some of this barbeque. They didn't have hushpuppies, which IS kind of lame, and I have to take points off for that, but the 'Que was lean and vinegary-hot, as it should be. It didn't top my brother's barbeque, but then, when he cooks a hog, it's a work of art. And a hell of a party, to boot. But I digress... I love the old churches and houses that still cling to the roadside down east. I'm intrigued by the cemetery that lies beyond that fence. The economy isn't as brisk out here, away from the Research Triangle, and it shows. But on the plus side, the wonderful old buildings haven't all been razed to make room for yet another subdivision or strip mall. The raping of Wake County by carpetbagger developers is a source of great distress to me. It was a beautiful place, once. This old house isn't long for this world, I fear, but it has a wonderful spookiness to it. I could easily imagine it as a sentient creature, peering at us from its empty-eyed windows. It's places like this that make me want to stop the car and get out to take a ton of pictures. That would mean we would never get to the beach, so I had to settle for this shot. There have been wildfires burning down east lately, affecting the air quality as far west as Greensboro. I don't know if this was part of the actual wildfires that are plaguing Washington County, but it's the right area. Creepy, isn't it? I saw houses bordering on woods that had dug trenches along the edge of the trees; a precautionary measure, perhaps? At last we reached the beach! The traffic during the week of the Fourth of July is ungodly - it took us over an hour to go 20 miles up the beach - a serious detriment to going during this time of year, and a powerful inducement to go in September, when the crowds are thinner.
The guys couldn't wait to hit the beach in their new swimwear (the old suits were getting a bit indecent). The Bohemian poses for me - isn't he the quintessential surfer dude here? They discovered some boogie boards in the closet and had tons of fun riding the waves. The ocean was quite calm, which isn't always a given this far out into the Atlantic. I think the Gulf stream might have been the predominant current, as opposed to the colder and rougher Labrador that also lies offshore here and vies with the Gulf. We sure saw a lot of seaweed and jellyfish!
We took walks in the morning along the tidal pools, looking for interesting shells and sea life. The Bohemian attempts rather futilely to keep his shorts dry. It seems weird to me too - he usually is drenched from just playing in the creek, so why worry about it now? Kids...psshhh! One morning we found a hermit crab in one of the tidal pools, and the Bohemian was pretty excited about it. I'm not big on catching and keeping wild creatures - I think it's a selfish and ecologically irresponsible lesson to teach. So we looked at the crab, took his picture, and let him go. Isn't he cute? Can you see us reflected in the crab's shell? Very cool and totally unplanned! As a career vampire, I normally don't rise at dawn, but it's usually worth it at the beach. I got up one morning and found the wild horses right outside the house. The story on these horses is that they're the descendants of horses left here by Sir Richard de Grenville in the 1580s. I think the original Arabian genes have gotten a bit diluted over the centuries, but they're still a big tourist draw. People come up the beach in droves of tour jeeps to get a look at these guys, and I'm always amazed that the horses don't kick or bite anyone - you should see the amusement park-bred idiots that think they should put their toddler, or their pregnant wife right next to one of these for a photo-op. The literature on the horses specifically says you should keep a distance of at least 25 feet from them - guess some folks either can't read, or just think it doesn't apply to them. I worry that if and when a horse bites one of them, the poor horse will be held accountable. This stallion on the left was quite the alpha male. He actually came after us one morning, as we were trying to get back the house from a walk on the beach. I advised the hubman to "walk quickly, but don't run, and don't make eye contact", which worked, but man! I can't believe anyone would want to get up close with this guy, other than his baby, and his baby's mama, seen at the right. Cheddar and Stilton enjoyed the fresh air and practiced their samurai sword techniques every morning. (I know - what????) They may look cute and cuddly, but they are in fact, deadly foes. The sunrises were awesome! I'm always amazed when I take pictures like this. Have I mentioned lately that I love my camera?
I love the bird balanced on the back of this horse (yes, that's the bad-ass stallion he's sitting on - go figure!). He sat up there to escape being harassed by a flock of black-colored birds (I couldn't tell what they were). He's some kind of fishing bird - look at that beak and those feet! Of course I had to have a red drink, in honor of Bea. The briny-ness of using Clamato instead of tomato or V-8 is especially yummy at the beach.
Looking at the world with an artist's eye reveals wonderful surprises in the mundane. I love the patterns made by the fence, the grass, and the sun upon them both.
It tickled me no end that this horse was up on the dunes one afternoon, watching the people. The people on the beach never noticed her there.
We had a birthday while we were at the beach - my sister's French exchange student turned 16, and my mother made her famous Million Layer Chocolate cake for him. I call this "Two Jewish Mothers Light The Cake" - aren't they the epitome of motherly? I'm afraid that poor guy will never be the same after spending a week with this gang - my father only speaks the International Language of Obscenities, and my mother; well, let's just say she has a certain je ne sais quoi. No, really, I don't know what it is. I love her dearly, but I need an aspirin - are you with me now?
So we survived the week at the beach, more or less. The scenery was beautiful, but the people were everywhere. I did manage to not get sunburned, which is a vast relief to those who have to live with me, and now my sister and I know exactly what we've been missing, don't we baby? Next time, we will be like the little rabbit, and RUN!!