Like the title of the post suggests, this is going to be quick . . . wham, bam, thank you, ma'am! First of all, thank you so much for the birthday wishes. It truly was a wonderful birthday because I a) took Lola's advice and didn't grade a thing and b) had the following for my dinner: cheese, Chinese food, chocolate cake, and chardonnay . . . this post is brought to you by the letters C and H! Turning 38 felt liberating, or as my father points out, so close to forty.
There are no pretty pictures for this post, just words. The Flyer and I are taking a hike with some of my team mates and students from school so anticipate wonderful fall foliage from the Poconos. In the meantime, I am taking a quick break from teacher revisions to say, "Howdy" to all you other less fortunates who didn't make it to Rhinebeck this year either. PSATs and the aforementioned hike precluded it. Next year, Lola and I are so making that trek.
I added a little link to a post we had in June as we fear we may soon be outed in the blogosphere. Last night, during a wonderful little iChat with Gus, Lola, and Mom, our mother asks which one of us had the Shaun Cassidy underpants. You see, our mother was nothing if not thrifty. We had old t-shirts, she knew how to make underpants . . . hence Shaun Cassidy's face plastered all over my 10-year-old naughty bits. Anyway, Lola brought up that we all did since again, our mother is nothing if not thrifty and underpants were passed down from child to child. I responded, while Gus was using a ruler as a light saber on the other end of the iChat, that the pants were mine first. Why? Here's where we go squiffy. "Well, I was reading on Mike's blog that the princess got her first Tiger Beat and I was going to comment that you used to love reading it whenever Shaun Cassidy was in it, but some old woman beat me to it." Friends, you can't grab a pen and scribble to your husband, "We are fucked . . . that comment was from me," fast enough. Suffice it to say, she didn't read the post two before it when Mike directly linked to our blog (and Mike, trust me, I am so not putting the blame for any of this on you . . . she'll find out eventually). Suffice it to say, we're keeping the link until she does find out . . . and she will . . . and it won't take a part-time DEA agent (long story for later).
Ariann progresses at a snail's pace. I'd put up pictures of that, but seriously, do you want to look at seven inches of red Cascade 220 as opposed to four inches? Oooh . . . excitement! I have to get cracking on another sock since I ripped the pair I started from Cat's book. Sarah did say that they were running rather large, and I admitted defeat and pulled back.
PS - during last night's conversation with Gus, he was gushing over his new Green Lantern socks that Lola knit him. I told him to hide them from the Flyer . . . since GL is the coolest super-hero.