Shotsnaps

In Good Company

Of course Birdie isn't the only cat-lover around these parts.

Millie has chased after kittens for as long as she could toddle, and her now-longer legs easily outrun little balls of fur.

...not that the balls of fur mind a bit.

In Celebration of This Girl I Know

Before we begin, let me just say that it's awesome to have a daughter tell you that she wants to decorate her own birthday cake. I made a layer cake and double batch of buttercream, squirted on a purple horse head that looked kind of like Gumby, and-- voila!-- done.

Okay, now we can begin. You probably already have guessed by the blonde observer above, but five girl cousins spent the night, so we celebrated with a party a night early.

They made the gift-opening routine even more chaotic and wonderful than usual.

After opening the dress my mom made her, Millie pulled a Clark Kent and rushed for the nearest ~~bathroom~~ phone booth to change. A stripey dress from Grandma and the requested 2013/2014 day planner?! What luck!

This picture is Millie through and through. She looks like Grumpy Dwarf here because the sound of so many high-pitched voices shrieking through the "Happy Birthday" song was too much to bear.

The next morning, on her actual birthday, we celebrated with the requested birthday breakfast, and she had to muffle her ears against the song a second time.

The day after her birthday, we prolonged the celebration yet more by opening the wonderful gifts from Grandma and Grandpa Owen and Aunt Sarah.

She loved them all!

What else does a newly-turned eleven-year old girl love? I'm glad you asked, because you might need to know one day. Birthday roasted broccoli. Just don't skimp on the sea salt.

I didn't even make her share.

P.S.

After I took the pictures in the preceding post, I let Annie take some, at her request, while I went to bring out the cake. I put the camera on automatic, so the flash popped up, but I still think she captured a few ~~dozen~~ gems.

Yup. We know how to do parties right.

Such Gardens Are Not Made by Singing, "Oh, How Beautiful!” and Sitting in the Shade

When we visited our Long Island family in July, Dude's one lament was that we missed the peak of many of his blooms. He's a landscaping genius, and the beds were beautiful in mid-July, so I laughed off his comment. Then we had a last-minute weekend jaunt to the Island in the middle of August, and now I understand.

Blow-me-down beautiful, and this was only a part!

Grouchy and bleary-eyed, we sailed in late Thursday night and left in a whirl Sunday after lunch, but I managed to snap a few more pictures than last time (which isn't saying much, I know).

Dude taught Ezekiel the rudiments of soccer.

He's a whiz! 'Atta boy, Zekie.

He even bounced on the soccer ball like an old pro. (Olympics, here we come.)

Oooh, that Belly. What an impressive baby we have.

The funny thing about this next picture, apart from the fact that it's blurry and indefinable, is that it's the sole representative of our entire purpose in taking a second trip to Long Island. John's friend Josh, with whom he's been friends since he was eight, had flown in with his daughter from Colorado for the week, and his mom was throwing him a big birthday bash. His mom, just so you know, is one of the warmest and most hospitable women who's ever served as a party host, and she can grow eggplant bushes that stretch halfway to the moon. (Seriously.)

The girls swam in the pool, made friends, played on the playset, and admired the chickens. I got to catch up with Uncle Jon and Aunt Karen, who brought Annika her Very Own Plate of her trademark deviled eggs, eat good food (including some of those deviled eggs and the most amazing birthday cake artwork, but not at the same time), and visit with friends of John I haven't seen in over ten years. John stayed up until the wee hours in the good company of a bunch of high school buddies, who remain friends 16 years after graduating. All this, and what do I take a picture of?

...a string of Christmas lights strung high on a feed bin.

FAIL.

In better news, I took the following picture on the way home after Susie said in slight disgust, "Mama, can you PLEASE tell Piper that the Eiffel Tower is not in China and that we are NOT in China?"

Christmas feed bin lights + the Eiffel Tower (below on the right) should end this post handily.

THE END.

Da Da Da, Too

John and I even escaped on a date together! Thanks to the best parents-in-law ever, we were gone for hours, and I enjoyed every last minute because I really like my husband. (He's my favorite.)

It's almost a given at this point that if he takes me out to eat on the Island, this house of Pakastani food is the destination. Lunch buffets are super-romantic, especially if you go back for seconds, which you can bet I do.

After raving about the food to John for the next hour like I always do, he drove us around to his old haunts, and we sat in quiet on the dock.

I took a picture of myself sly and shifty-eyed in the salty wind. I'm looking at John and laughing at myself for taking a selfie when I'm on a date. For Pete's sake.

We drove around for a while more, and when John turned around so I could admire a striking house for a second time (a narrow, white Victorian as tall as you can imagine), he screeched to a halt next to this little church.

For this reason, he screeched to a halt.

In high school he used to landscape in this section of town with Dude but hadn't noticed the sign before. We searched out the famous bones and found them here.

(Note the erudite cherub.)

To our exclamations upon returning home, Dude and Mom O. replied, "Oh, yeah. That's always been there. You didn't know that?!" Apparently, Wodehouse lived in town for years and was famous for donating lots of money to a local animal hospital.

Now we (and you) know.

We found the remains of an inspired Wooster chase on the headstone.

After watching this documentary last year, my delight at watching noted atheist Christopher Hitchens and theologian Doug Wilson giggle together as they shared Wodehouse quotes made me want to read every last book Wodehouse wrote.

Before we left, I told John that if I ever earned an epitaph like this, I'd count my life worthy, and it's true.

Oh, No, He Didn't

Oh, yes, he did. These two green men greeted me a few weeks back. He tells me he's going to buy as many as he can find. Doesn't he know how hard it's going to be to hide two dozen Hulks?!