5/26/2013

It's a long weekend in May, which can only mean two things--Folklife is happening and it's raining...again. Welcome to May-vember, shortly followed by June-u-ary, then comes the 5th of July, and the official start of summer. But before that, we've got some unfinished business to take care of here.

First, Willie is off in E. WA. for a rocket festival called fire in the sky where he hopes to fly his recently completed rocket (the epoxy that dripped onto the chair on which it was sitting overnight is not yet dry) and get certified as a genuine space cadet--ha ha--I can say anything while he gone out of intetnet range.

B, Grandma and Grandpa have arrived for the Bar Mitzvah, the first official guests, and their only a week and a half early. That's what happens when you think it was happening Memorial Day weekend. Okay, they didn't, but we have fun at their expense.

And III, 5 and a 1/2 day's til the Bar Mitzvah--AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Papa swears he has menus in place, some of which even I can (and more importantly, will) eat. Mommy's going sufficiently nutzoid for all of us. Let's just say Martha Stewart's got nuthin on my mom.

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Ah Lilac season--we hardly knew ye. Wouldn't you know that we would have a hot week that basically shortened the season by at least that much. It was fun (and good stinking) while it lasted.
Grandma got here and I am wowing her with my gift of gab, or bafflement of bull-hockey, or something like that.
Caption here--anyone? Kilroy was here? Man bites dog? Where you hiding the pretzels?

Pretzels, stay out of my pretzels, and my oranges, and my stoned wheat crackers--hey we live in WA and that kind of the thing is legal now. Wait, what? The wheat crackers aren't stoned? But it says so on the box. I want my money back.
Like we said, May-vember. You should have seen the torrential downpour that drove papa out to see the rain washing all his precious electricity off the solar panels. Poor guy--it rains and he cries.
Beam me up, Scotty! I seem to be caught in some kind of cruel religious ritual. Binding of the second born--AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!
Hey--when I said beam me up, I didn't mean beam me in here. This isn't funny--somebody's gonna pay for this.
Thanks Cousin Jeffrey for the fabulous backgammon board--this thing is really a beauty!
I'm getting the hang of it too. Here I am playing with Dana
Woo hoo! Doubles again.
Alas, beginner's luck. Grandma beat me.
Esther and Bun came over too, and she helped in the Martha-ish exercise of tying up sachets of herbs and stuff for havdalah. What ever happened to passing around a mushy clove encrusted orange or old smell-less bottle of even older spice?
Looks like Bun has found a new home. I know papa will be happy about this--he's been trying to liberate Bun from Esther ever since they met.