It’s already raining, but Tropical Storm Hanna is due to hit with fury around noon or shortly thereafter.
My cupboards are bare.
I prefer to move slowly on Saturday mornings, but I think, today, I will be getting out the door a lot sooner than usual.
I hijacked my husband’s blog and made an entry in honor of his birthday, which is tomorrow. Bill turns 40. One of the funniest blog posts I ever saw was when people left made-up stories of their favorite memories of the blogger (I don’t remember who did this). So, please, to say happy birthday to Bill, hop over here and tell him about something that didn’t happen to you two. If you can do it before noon today, it will be even funnier, since he’ll see your comment via email, but will not have access to his blog to see what you are writing about. This is a great day for all you lurkers to leave a comment.
Happy 40th, Bill! Gosh, I remember your 21st when we…
Bill, birthday greetings! Remember that time in NYC…
Bill, did you ever tell Michelle about that time we…
Bill, you and Michelle will have to come over again. I’m still laughing about last Saturday when…
I was happy to talk to Bill this afternoon for over an hour. He didn’t get to Mass today. He’s not on American soil, and this morning he wasn’t on an American installation of any kind.
In fact, at 4 am, the loudspeaker outside his room blares prayers in a foreign language.
He’s coming home soon.
My brother-in-law in Iraq gets to attend Mass every other Wednesday. He’s been entrusted with the Host, so they can have a Communion Service on Sundays.
I don’t care how you spend your Sundays, but thank God you have a choice.
If I buy teeny tiny plastic beads, will I regret it?
We got in at 1 am from a “day trip” to a destination too far away to really be a day trip. (Any guesses? Three hints: visiting Bill’s extended family in a state with no self-serve gas in a town off exit 15W.)
Mary, though, didn’t get the memo about the shifted night sleeping schedule, and so she was bright-eyed and sitting up in bed and babbling at her usual 530 am.
Thank goodness for strong coffee and four options for Mass so we can go in shifts (I do prefer to attend Mass as a family, but my 3 year old and not-yet-5 year old do not handle lack of sleep in any fashion remotely considered civil, so I plan to leave them home today).
We hurried home from the family BBQ because Bill is going TDY and has to pack. I wish I could say that we have a nice relaxing day of family togetherness planned before he goes, but, unfortunately, I have a very long honey-do list, and I’m trying to decide just exactly how much I can have him do without making him miserable.
Top on the list is installing the screw-in-the-wall baby gate to prevent access to the oft-used basement stairs. Mary has figured out the crawling thing, and her speed and agility increase exponentially by the hour it seems. In a few days I expect her to be no longer content with exploring whichever room I am in and instead to be heading wherever curiosity leads.
GO TO MASS!
(That’s for me. I know I’m going to forget.)
Three males huddle around the laptop watching women’s sabre fencing. Medal round coming up in moments.
I can live with one TV. But I am so happy we have two computers.
Update: American Women Sabre fencers rock! Tomorrow morning we’ll be watching the Men’s Epee – Bill’s weapon of choice from long ago. Exciting stuff.
VBS is for Volumizing Body Size.
First there are the goodies in the adult lounge. Then there’s the fact that I’m spending 4 hours a day with the 3 and under crowd and a roomful of Goldfish, graham crackers and vanilla wafers. And they enjoy sharing.
Oh, and my morning run has been replaced with sitting and holding babies instead.
My scale is groaning.
Really.
I just don’t know what else to say.
‘Designer Vaginas’ Blacklisted in Australia
“In one case we heard of a man bringing in a Brazilian pornographic photo and saying: `Make my girlfriend look like this.”’
Reit This Way 