You know you want to go there. Yes. Those beaches really looked like that.
Heaven.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
5 o'clock somewhere.
You know you want to go there. Yes. Those beaches really looked like that.
Heaven.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Monday, March 14, 2011
this weekend
This weekend all the fam was in town for B's baptism.
I attempted to take a group picture of the little...darlings.
But getting a composed picture of these three together is like
capturing three tornadoes in the same shot:
they won't stay still
awesome if accomplished
highly unlikely
So, I just let them go and this is what I got, this weekend.
I attempted to take a group picture of the little...darlings.
But getting a composed picture of these three together is like
capturing three tornadoes in the same shot:
they won't stay still
awesome if accomplished
highly unlikely
So, I just let them go and this is what I got, this weekend.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Friday, January 21, 2011
Death by Plague?
As promised, the story of how the plague almost took out my brother's family.
Well. Not really the plague. But I'm a germ-a-phobe, so any illness may as well be the plague.
Meet my new nephew, B.
Aka: Critter, Squeaker, Turkey, Squirt.
The day he was born his brother was sick with strep.
The day he came home brother was still sick and everyone else was sort of okay, if not tired.
All was well.
So. I went home.
3 days later I get a call. From Grammy.
"Can you come help me?!"
She was totally trying to keep the exasperation out of her voice.
Turned out: B's Mom(who was trying to recover from a C-section at the time), Dad, and Sister magically all got sick with some sort of combination of the flu/strep/ebola virus.
Okay. No ebola virus. But still.
So. In order to keep the one week old baby from contracting evil illnesses and stay alive, Auntie K marched back up there (3 hours away) with a giant bottle of Purell,
a tub of Lysol wipes, and surgical masks.
Not kidding. Quasi-germ-a-phobe here. Remember?
Somehow Grammy has this invincible immune system and never gets sick, so even though she was, and still is, the in house nurse maid, she didn't contract whatever had taken out the other 4. So, I stayed up there for a few days and she and I and B played keep away from the nefarious diseases floating around.
We succeeded!
While B's family members were recovering from 103-105˚ fevers, fabulous displays of their upchuck reflexes, and general lethargy and uselessness, we managed to keep
the baby and ourselves healthy.
I think it's because I Lysoled all switches, doorknobs, handles and remotes upon the moment of my arrival, as well as used generous amounts of sanitizer anytime any
of the diseased even looked in my direction.
His poor mother. She didn't get to hold him for a week.
But. He survived the plague.
Welcome to the world, baby boy.
Well. Not really the plague. But I'm a germ-a-phobe, so any illness may as well be the plague.
Meet my new nephew, B.
Aka: Critter, Squeaker, Turkey, Squirt.
The day he was born his brother was sick with strep.
The day he came home brother was still sick and everyone else was sort of okay, if not tired.
All was well.
So. I went home.
3 days later I get a call. From Grammy.
"Can you come help me?!"
She was totally trying to keep the exasperation out of her voice.
Turned out: B's Mom(who was trying to recover from a C-section at the time), Dad, and Sister magically all got sick with some sort of combination of the flu/strep/ebola virus.
Okay. No ebola virus. But still.
So. In order to keep the one week old baby from contracting evil illnesses and stay alive, Auntie K marched back up there (3 hours away) with a giant bottle of Purell,
a tub of Lysol wipes, and surgical masks.
Not kidding. Quasi-germ-a-phobe here. Remember?
Somehow Grammy has this invincible immune system and never gets sick, so even though she was, and still is, the in house nurse maid, she didn't contract whatever had taken out the other 4. So, I stayed up there for a few days and she and I and B played keep away from the nefarious diseases floating around.
We succeeded!
While B's family members were recovering from 103-105˚ fevers, fabulous displays of their upchuck reflexes, and general lethargy and uselessness, we managed to keep
the baby and ourselves healthy.
I think it's because I Lysoled all switches, doorknobs, handles and remotes upon the moment of my arrival, as well as used generous amounts of sanitizer anytime any
of the diseased even looked in my direction.
His poor mother. She didn't get to hold him for a week.
But. He survived the plague.
Welcome to the world, baby boy.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Death by Shovel?
I was driving home from lunch. Minding my own business. Listening to music. Intently watching the road. Traffic was going 'bout 70mph and I was ~50 yards behind a Tahoe that was driving in the middle lane. There was a mini van ahead of it in the right lane. Everything was fine.
The next thing I know I'm watching the mini van run over a shovel that was laying face up in the right lane, thereby tossing it into the windshield of the Tahoe. Only...it didn't go through the windshield. Thanks to Jesus, the flat side of the shovel had hit the windshield, and due to g-forces, or Newton's laws, or whatever, the shovel decided to use the still intact windshield as a slingshot of sorts.
The shovel, no joke, went flying at least 70 ft straight up into the air, handle separating from rapidly rotating metal shovel on the way up. As I'm staring at the shovel, seemingly frozen at the apex of it's flight, (we're in slow-mo vision here) I wonder: "I'm about to be under that thing. Is it going to land on the hood of my car? Or come through the windshield? I really don't want to be decapitated. Perhaps slamming of the breaks would be required at this point."
So...I did that. Slam on the breaks, that is. Though, it turns out, I didn't really need to. The handle ended up landing in the right shoulder and the rapidly spinning in the air shovel landed in the left shoulder. I drove past it a half second later, watching it bounce as I passed by.
The whole thing probably took 5 seconds. Shovel hit by minivan. One. Shovel hits Tahoe. One and a half. Shovel goes flying. Two. Three. Quick decision- BRAKES! Four. Shovel hits ground. Five.
When I drove by the slowing Tahoe, both people in the front seats were okay, they looked freaked out, their windshield was intact, but the entire thing was spiderweb cracked. Like I'm not sure how the driver was seeing through it cracked.
Anyway. Everyone was lucky. No decapitations. Shovel pieces landing not on the road.
Stupid mini-van. How do you not see a giant shovel in the middle of your lane? He was probably on his cell phone. Yes, HE.
AND! HE didn't even slow down or realize that he had sent a guillotine flying at someone's vehicle. MORON, I tell you. MORON.
The next thing I know I'm watching the mini van run over a shovel that was laying face up in the right lane, thereby tossing it into the windshield of the Tahoe. Only...it didn't go through the windshield. Thanks to Jesus, the flat side of the shovel had hit the windshield, and due to g-forces, or Newton's laws, or whatever, the shovel decided to use the still intact windshield as a slingshot of sorts.
The shovel, no joke, went flying at least 70 ft straight up into the air, handle separating from rapidly rotating metal shovel on the way up. As I'm staring at the shovel, seemingly frozen at the apex of it's flight, (we're in slow-mo vision here) I wonder: "I'm about to be under that thing. Is it going to land on the hood of my car? Or come through the windshield? I really don't want to be decapitated. Perhaps slamming of the breaks would be required at this point."
So...I did that. Slam on the breaks, that is. Though, it turns out, I didn't really need to. The handle ended up landing in the right shoulder and the rapidly spinning in the air shovel landed in the left shoulder. I drove past it a half second later, watching it bounce as I passed by.
The whole thing probably took 5 seconds. Shovel hit by minivan. One. Shovel hits Tahoe. One and a half. Shovel goes flying. Two. Three. Quick decision- BRAKES! Four. Shovel hits ground. Five.
When I drove by the slowing Tahoe, both people in the front seats were okay, they looked freaked out, their windshield was intact, but the entire thing was spiderweb cracked. Like I'm not sure how the driver was seeing through it cracked.
Anyway. Everyone was lucky. No decapitations. Shovel pieces landing not on the road.
Stupid mini-van. How do you not see a giant shovel in the middle of your lane? He was probably on his cell phone. Yes, HE.
AND! HE didn't even slow down or realize that he had sent a guillotine flying at someone's vehicle. MORON, I tell you. MORON.
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