Zozo sends her love

The flower headband is from Grandpa Ray and Grandma Judy (purchased at Ballwin Days after my girlie girl spotted a table full of them and turned her big blue eyes on her grandparents and asked for one). The Hollywood sunglasses are courtesy of Grammy and Papa, who brought them back from Florida knowing Zozo would love love love them. The video was shot in the backyard of Grandma and Grandpa-who-live-behind-Zoe’s-house (yes, that’s their name…that’s what she calls them…wordy but accurate) right before we went to dinner and on a search for iPhone 4 cases. Turns out cases for the new iPhone are as hard to come by as the actual iPhone. M’s solution: put it in a sock. Because yeah, that’s protective and stylish.

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Bad blogger! No cookie!

I know, I know.  I’ve been a bad blogger.  Actually living my life seems to get in the way of documenting my life.  In all of last weekend, we had approximately 30 minutes where we sat on our butt on the couch and watched part of a movie.  Other than that, we went to a wake and funeral, cleaned up the house and a car (guess which one), did laundry, mowed the grass, entertained M’s colleague from England by taking him to Forest Park and the History Museum, went to the 38 Special/Bret Michaels/Lynyrd Skynyrd concert, gathered our Christmas in June food drive items and ran them up to church, went to mass, ate at The Blue Owl in Kimmswick for the first time, and did a lot of work to put our basement back together for our guests arriving Thursday.  All good stuff, but we were tired at the end of the weekend.

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Carnival

The words “church picnic” or “school carnival” mean completely different things to M and I.  To M, those words mean, “Hey!  I get to strap myself into old, decrepit pieces of steel with flashing lights that are powered by old lawn mower motors and run by people with IQs of about 5!  Sounds fantastic!”  To me, those words mean, “Photo opp!”  I learned long ago to be wary of the rides at a carnival, and have nurtured an irrational fear of Ferris Wheels since my aunt terrorized me and my cousin on one when we were in grade school.

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Welcome Home

Zozo and I made this sign last night.  We had fun, and her Daddy loved it when he got home tonight.  She drew our family up there, over the “com” in “Welcome.”  I’m on the upper left.  Hootie is below me, and for reasons unknown, is the only one of us to have fingers.  His left – our right – wing (?) is really long and cuts across another figure’s legs (Zoe, actually) and then those vertical stripes are, I’m told, fingers.  He has a lot of them.  I didn’t ask.  Anyway, as I said, Zoe is next with curly hair, and then there’s Daddy.  She did his hair pretty good, but I’m not sure about the Leno-inspired chin.  She also drew a myriad of balloons and smiley faces.  And one smiley-face balloon.

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Feet dry

My boy comes home today, and I just checked his route on Flytecomm.com.  He’s gone feet dry, meaning: he’s over land, way up north.  Back over North America.

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