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Archive for the ‘Family’ Category
So. I wasn’t going to post while in Vegas, but I’ve got too much stuff to talk about. So here I am.
Saturday was endless – we were up at 4:00 a.m. EDT to catch our 6:40 flight. (If it had occurred to me that Beloved, as a frequent flier, has all sorts of “premium” and “platinum” status and can bypass all sorts of lines in airports, we’d have slept until at least until 4:30.) We flew from Cleveland to Minneapolis, then from Minneapolis to Las Vegas, arriving at 10:40 a.m. Which means we’d been up for 9 hours.
We then rented a car and drove out to Darling Daughter’s Elks lodge, since we couldn’t check into our hotel for another 4 hours and met all of her friends there – as well as her beau, Mr. Fix It (he supposedly can fix anything). After a few hours, we checked into our hotel, then took Darling Daughter and Mr. Fix It to dinner, then we went back to our room to pick up our tickets to see Jimmy Cliff, who was performing at our hotel.
We were about 45 minutes late for the concert at that point, and Beloved and I had been up and running for nearly 20 hours straight. As we rode the elevator down, it stopped a couple of floors below us and a young Caucasian man in a Jimmy Cliff t-shirt and a camera slung around his neck got on, accompanied by a small, thin African-American man with a goatee and the shiniest gold shoes we’d ever seen.
Beloved cracks, “Oh, good – we’re late to the show, but so is Jimmy Cliff.”
We all chuckle. We all know Jimmy’s already down there – these guys are photographers for the show or some such.
We go down to the concert – a very nice venue at the “beach” and wave pool at the Mandalay Bay – and catch the very last of the opening act. They leave the stage, and preparations for the main show begin. The band files out and a very elaborate introduction begins when Darling Daughter and Beloved look at each other and both say, “Wouldn’t it be funny if the guy in the elevator really was Jimmy Cliff?”
And out on stage bounced a small, thin African-American guy with a goatee and the shiniest gold shoes you ever saw.
I don’t think it would be inappropriate to say that we all began to squeal like a bunch of teeny-bopper fan girls at that point. Well, except for poor Mr. Fix It, who probably wondered what the hell he’s gotten himself into with this family.
Since I’m riding on a wave of giddiness at the realization that I’ve lost a total of 14 pounds so far (Beloved has lost 20; go figure) and rolling my eyes at my darling husband who is trying to convince me the secret to rapid weight loss is frequent sex, I couldn’t help but post this.
We’re puttin’ the “toddle” in “toddler”!
Have a lovely day, y’all.
There’s no Spin Cycle this week. I feel so…bereft.
I suppose I could post a recipe (White Girl Stir Fry, anyone?), but since I’m all out of stories about obtaining Chuck, I’m saving that for tomorrow while I worry and obsess about my Fight Back Friday post. So, you all know what that means, right?
That’s right – pictures of The World’s Cutest G Man.
The work week is half over, so have a lovely Wednesday, y’all.
The G Man Cuddlin'
The G Man Posin'
The G Man Thinkin'
The G Man Yellin'
The G Man Crawlin'
I haven’t participated in Random Tuesday Thoughts for awhile, so here we go. Grab the the purple button, link up with Keely, and play along.
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Is it just me, or is there something infinitely comforting in the knowledge there’s a full carton of half-and-half in the refrigerator at work?
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We returned to White Feather Meats yesterday and ordered an entire pig – and extra baby back ribs, much to Beloved’s delight.
We’ve decided to name our pig Arnold. Beloved kept wanting to call him Wilbur, but I read Charlotte’s Web too many times as a child and cannot eat a Wilbur, even if he is “some pig.”
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Okay, it is my opinion that The Learning Channel has simply gone too far.
We are heading to Hocking Hills the first week of August where we will converge with Oldest Son, Darling Daughter and her significant other, The Young One, Jolly and her significant other and the G Man, and Beloved’s Only Niece (who is just a hoot and a half) to terrorize frolic in the various parks there for four days. One of the things we want to do is rent one of those pontoon “party” boats for a day and let the kids spend their leisure time falling diving into Lake Logan.
Jolly, however, adamantly refused (at first) to let us take the G Man into the lake. Not on the lake, but in the water itself. Why you ask?
Because she watched a show on The Learning Channel about some flesh-eating virus that lives in fresh-water lakes.
Thank you, TLC, for forcing Beloved and me to point out that we’ve both swam in many lakes in the nearly 50 years we’ve both been on this earth and not only is our flesh still in tact, there’s far too much of it.
Can someone point me in the direction of a lake with a fat-eating virus, please?
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Darling Daughter recently acquired a kitten when the management of her apartment made her find another home for her rottweiler mix puppy (even after they told her there were no “breed restrictions”). Until recently, the kitten had no name – I believe they were simply calling her “Kitty.”
She has one now, according to Darling Daughter’s most recent Facebook status: Princess KittySkankButtface.
Seems like an awfully long name to burden a poor kitten with, if you ask me.
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I have been plagued by nightmares lately. And as afraid of the dark as I am, my nightmares rarely, if ever, include monsters. No, my nightmares always have something terrible happening to one of my kids.
There’s nothing like getting up at 2 a.m. to IM your eldest child, knowing he will still be awake, to make sure he’s all right and to remind him to look both ways before he crosses the street.
Those bus drivers never look where they’re going.
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Since we’re on the subject of nightmares, I started to have a doozy of one last night. Started, but didn’t finish because I made myself wake up. In it, I was approached by The Young One, who said he had something to tell me. I waited patiently enough, figuring I knew what it was, when the word “vampire” came out of his mouth and I immediately made myself snap out of it.
Apparently, I can handle being told that my kid is gay, but not a gay sparkly vampire.
(However, if the history in the internet browser on The Young One’s computer is anything to judge by, the boy is definitely NOT gay. You didn’t know Mom checked on that, did you dear?)
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Oddly enough, I haven’t had a nightmare about Darling Daughter in awhile, which is odd since she is the one zooming around Las Vegas on a damn scooter.
Maybe the fact she’d name her poor cat Princess KittySkankButtface is frightening enough.
(Oh, I kid – Mother loves you and you know it.)
Well, we’re back from The Great Beloved Family Reunion of 2010.
It was a lovely memorial for Beloved’s paternal grandmother, who passed away at 96 – an amazing woman – and part family reunion bash. Everyone had a BLAST. Family who hadn’t seen each other in years (in some cases decades) got together as if they’d never been apart; I got to meet people I’d heard so much about, and they ALL treated me like one of the clan – it says something about these kind and generous people that they welcomed me (ME!) so whole-heartedly.
Beloved and I were overwhelmed by the absolutely gorgeous Wisconsin countryside. Being us, we spent a great deal of time exploring said countryside and finding little gems like this:
Modern Conveniences
Outhouses with satellite dishes.
YEAH.
Anyhoo, we’re out and about with my camera, when we come across a large, picturesque field full of large, picturesque cows.
No. Seriously. They were picturesque.
See?
Picturesque Cow
Isn’t he cute?
His FOOD was rather picturesque, too.
Take a closer look.
Cow Food!
Don’t recognize it yet?
Here – we’ll help you out.
Wisconsin Grass
When Beloved and I said we wanted grass-fed beef, this wasn’t exactly what we had in mind.
And California says their cows are happy.