Curses

Grrrr. I had a post typed up, pictures and all, hit "publish," and an Error sign came up. *Poof!* Lost the entire post.

Drat.

I'll try again.

As Mission Vao would say, "bantha poodoo."

Yes, I've been playing Knights of the Old Republic. Made it all the way to Dantooine. ;)

Love and X-Boxes,

Lady G

Seven-Eleven

Ok, let's see if it will work this time!

So here goes. . . . .

Ron, Joel, Dad.

Pater et filius. (Did I get that right?)

Ron is more or less our adopted grandpa. :)

Fam. :)

Dad and his newest daughter.

Sheryl had to be out of town, but Ron was there to represent, and we were all glad he was there.

Maid of honor, groom, best man. Lizzy's laughing, but I have no idea what Joel and Nate are doing. Singing, maybe?

The guys. L-R. Dan, Jaques, David, David, and Dave.
Yes, three Davids. The one in the middle is 'Chelle's brother, my escort for the day.

The gals. L-R. Jamie, Betsy, Tonnie, Amanda (in front), moi, Michelle, Lizzy.

That's all I have time for, at the moment. We're off to the K.'s for a family barbecue.

The whirl of gaiety continues.

Wheeeeeeeeee!

Love and silk dresses,

Lady G

In Which the Iron Enters the Author's Soul

Ok, not really. I'm dramatizing (again). But it seemed fitting.

Why?

Because Liz, David, Justin, Jake, and I spent five hours unfolding, ironing, and rolling 22 tablecloths yesterday. Big tablecloths. Lizzy has pictures.

Experience the Madness.

Teeheehee. They like me. I like that they like me. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Anyhoo.

I'm going over again this morning to help out. I think we were planning to leave by now, but Dad and Ron are chasing moles in the yard. So here I am, catching up on the blog.

Yesterday, we packed up all our stuff and relocated from Joel's house out here to Ron and Sheryl's. (Hence the chasing of burrowing rodents. Joel has no burrowing rodents. On second thought, are moles rodents? "Moles don't eat dirt, worms eat dirt. Hey, Zero, are you a worm or a mole?")

Oh, mole chase has ended. Time to be off!

Away wi' ye!

Love and tablecloths,

Lady G

(Or, as Justin dubbed me, "N.S." - No Sympathy.)

Teaser

300th post! Whoo!

And I just wanted you to know. . . . .

I will never look at butter, garlic, and olive oil the same way again.

Oh, indeed, no.

Love and Stonehenge,

Lady G

p.s. I'll explain one of these days. . . . .

All Over the Map

In case you were wondering, David fights dirty. He showed this to me the other night and promptly started snickering.

http://itre.cis.upenn.edu/~myl/languagelog/archives/002641.html

I will admit, though, I deserved every bit of it. I’ve been hounding him on any mistakes I find in his various blogs (the HSQ and this one I found a few days ago), ever since I first started reading them. . . . . . sometime last fall. Before I even met him – no, wait. That doesn’t work. Well, it sort of does. In any case, it requires an explanation. No, actually, it doesn’t. But I want to give you one.
So. Where was I? Oh, yes!
As I said, I started haunting the HSQ blog sometime last fall. I had met David at HOFCC when I came up to visit Joel (and surprised the cousins. Heeheehee), but when he was introduced, the last name was slurred so all I heard was something like “This is David mblshmblbuzz.” Not only that, but Joel and Michelle hadn’t begun dating, so I had no connection to make there. I remember liking him, though. I also remember he struck me as jittery, but I think that was only because it was freezing cold in the church/school/gym and he was trying to stay warm. I liked his laugh.

The punk.

Oh, shoot. This post was not intended to be about David. How on earth did this happen? I am going mad. I – ooooh, maybe that’s what I’m doing.

Quick! Ami! Conference on the mound!

Hi. What? Oh, nothing.

Heheheheheheheh.

Nod and smile, nod and smile.

So. (Annie Dillard! Whoo! Let's hear it for the first Writing Workshop, spring '07! Man, I just pulled out a really random memory.)

I shall now proceed to begin to start to commence to tell you about my Fourth of July/Independence Day/America's Birthday, etc. I think it will be quote fest.

Exercising our second amendment rights with Hannah, Betsy, Jonny, Jonny's-friend-whose-name-I-have-forgotten, Brett, Isaac, James, and Uncle Leigh.

"The lefties out number the rights?"

"B ay bay / b ee bee / b i bicky bi / b o bo. . . " (I was singing it all day).

"So, J-------, did any of your hair actually burn?"

"Stand there like you're coaching him and I'll take a picture." (This was to H and I.)

(I want to post what Hannah whispered to me in response to this, but for both our sakes, I shall refrain. But she should know what I mean. So she can laugh cryptically while I grin mischeivously and we'll make people wonder. Mwahahahah. We win!)

Moving on, before this gets awkward. . . . . . . .


At the C.'s house.

"They're playing frisbee golf."

"Will someone help me? Someone named J--------?"
"Yes. Someone named J-------- will help you."

"Lady G! You owe me a story!"
"I do? Oh! I do!"

"Muttermumbletalkfastbuzz. That's your new name."
"What?"
"Brownie Lady."
"Oh, ok, that works."

"His books are good, but eventually they all start to sound the same. 'A tall man, six foot, with a face like a blunted wedge.'"
"Wide shoulders."
"Yes, narrow through the hips, all his weight in his chest and shoulders."
"And all the girls wear their blouses a leetle too tight."
"Yeah." (Hannah, Beth, and I criticizing Louis L'Amour, to Amber's amusement.)

"This is great, I just stand here and mooch off of everybody's popcorn."

"Augh! How many times do I have to say 'I don't want to get wet' before people understand?!" (Hannah, upon Ruth nailing me - and splashing H in the process - in the back with a squirt gun. We threw her in the pool after that.)

"Run! Run! To Plymouth Rock! No, it's over there!" (Obstacle course.)

"Through the trees, over the bridge - careful, it rocks - around the cone, watch out for the top and bottom wires, and down to Josh."

"Augh!" (Me stepping on a splinter while running full tilt.)

"Ok, you're out of ammo, just go." (I shot the redcoat/cup about five times with the airsoft gun, but didn't knock it down.)

"Ow. Ow. Splinter. Ow. Ow. Gravel. Ow." (Half running/half limping down the hill to sign the Declaration of Independence.)

"Here, you stand there, be my bodyguard. Not that I'm a patsy, but no civilization ever survived on heroism."
*Frisbee comes winging by*
"You're not supposed to duck! That's why you're standing there!"
"What?! You're taller than I am! You're a K.! You're taller by default."
"Right, so stand tall."

"People keep walking on my shoes."

"Tell her your story."

"Englishwoman 2 (with a heavy British accent, holding teacup with pinky extended): 'I hear their clotheslines are a mile long.'"

"Congress 2 (turn hat backwards)."

"Don't judge me."
"I'm not judging."
"Don't give me that, I've hung around Joel enough to know the judgmental smile."

"NERTZ!"

"Curse you!"

"Stupid hobbitses."

"Who is singing the minuet in G and why?"
"Have you never seen The Music Man?"
"Nope."
"The old one or the new?"
"There's a new one?"
"Yeah."
"Oh, then I guess the old one."

"That's confusing."
"I just explained it in less than 30 seconds, how can it be confusing?"

"How'd you do, J-------?"
"Bad."
"-9?"
"Sure."

"She's trying to multiply 13 x 2."

"C for Camel, A for Abbott, M for Maxwell, E for Ennis, L for Lou Costello. What's that spell? Camel!"

"According to a recent nation-wide survey, more doctors smoke Camels than any other cigarette."

(Old Time Radio cigarette ads.)



And that was my Fourth of July. It was a good one, quite possibly the best I've had yet.

Love and watermelon,

Lady G