"Hop on the delicious path to enlightenment"

Sometimes you get a birthday present that is so chock-full of awesome love you can't quite believe your luck.

Right??

I mean . . .

 Hello My Name Is wine glass tags?

Wicked and The Avett Brothers' The Carpetner Carpenter CDs?

Swoon.

But what's *that* I see?

Is that a Buddha Butter Dish?

Why yes. Yes, it is a Buddha Butter Dish.

Because it is impossible to be in perfect harmony with all living things if you're worried about keeping a stick of butter fresh.

Which is so great, and so cool. And I'm so thankful for such an awesome birthday bucket.

But really? Perhaps the best thing of all? I now have free rein to grow a Buddha belly of my own.

uncle merv sobered up

At least enough to find all the other photos missing from Monday's post

 

Wordless Wednesday: Piering at the disappiering sun

Jelly, G-Girl, and the Eagle

Remember these two?

The single-digit-midgets?

Well they were out in full force again on Sunday, a year older than that lovely September day last year.

Jelly Roll frolicked in the water for hours, doing his Jelly Roll thang . . .

. . . while the Barque Eagle, America's Tall Ship, sailed into harbor in New London behind him.

It was nice of the Barque Eagle to entertain us all afternoon, although we thought she could have hoisted her sails for us, and made her triumphant return under full sail.

I mean, that's not a lot to ask, is it?

I'm not exactly sure Jelly Roll was aware of the gloriousness of that big boat behind him . . .

. . . but we were certainly aware of his gloriousness. Man, he's a gorgeous kid . . .

. . . as is his Mom. (My favorite thing about this photo is neither Hsin's radiant face nor the moon rising in the sky, but the cupcake floating in the air.)

We do love our little Jelly Roll.

High Five, baby.

Oh, and what about everybody's other favorite toddling munchkin, you ask?

Well, she was otherwise engaged . . .

. . . she was very busy being the Woman of the Hour, the Life of the Party, the Birthday Girl Extraordinaire. It's a lot of hard work turning 3, you know.

Happy Birthday, Little Ms. G!

Uncle Merv has company!

And here are some spectacularly unorganized and stunningly random moments to prove it!

obligatory. Not pictured: roof rat.

Roof rat.

Sunday morning champers 101

Look what happened to your day-old wine, MB! Ain't no depression round here.

An hotel!

Where the magic happens

shwimmin!

Boogie buddies

Thinking it over

So happy to have MB and the Dowd in town! It's going to be a great week.

love,

Uncle Merv

Fiction Friday: Season's end

The boxes were packed, most of them well dented and rippled, the words cocina, dormitorio, bano still visible beneath the Sharpie's black lines, new words scribbled above or below.

It wasn't something new. Raul knew he should not be surprised, or angry, or disappointed. But he was. This time felt different. This time he didn't want to go, and not just because moving involved extra work, and his mother was always out of sorts for the first few weeks, which typically lead to heated and sometimes violent arguments between her and his father.

This time was different because he liked it here. For the first time in his short life, he didn't dread going to school every weekday morning. He was not made fun of to the degree that he normally was, and even considered the small, pale boy who sat next to him in the classroom full of musical instruments a distant sort of friend. Raul's English was still basic, so they didn't talk much, or even really know anything at all about each other, but there was a feeling of acceptance by this boy that could not be denied. He would turn sideways and smile his shy smile. He would without fail say hello and goodbye at the beginning and end of each music class, and he once even offered Raul a piece of mint chewing gum.

The school itself was also a nicer place than he was accustomed to, with some sections of spotty grass in the inner courtyard and playground equipment that wasn't wrapped with yellow caution tape, now off limits to the students. Not that he ever played on the equipment. Raul did not go outside at recess. Instead, after finishing his free lunch, sipping the remains of the bagged, now warmish milk, he moved from his seat to the lunch table at the far end of the cafeteria, the one below the high metal-meshed window that let in filtered afternoon light.

This  spot was the most exciting part of this school, this town, this growing season. Raul was getting individual help with English three days a week. For the first time he was experiencing fleeting feelings of understanding. He was able to decode longer and longer strings of words, and Mr Phelps never seemed to get irritated when he failed to make progress, or made the same mistake that he had made yesterday and the day before and the day before that.

Obligatory

When Jacquie and her young'uns come to visit our fair shores every summer, they and their Uncle Schleckah wander off from Ocean Beach to the rocks at Neptune Park, and have themselves a righteous photo shoot.

2008:

I know, right? The awesomeness of it almost makes one want to keel over into a heap of love.

This photo has officially made it onto the walls of the Ledgie Loo.

Honestly. Could you die?

2009:
Well, we, as a giant family, went to the Poconos to celebrate Mom and Dad's 50th wedding anniversary. So, no OB that year, but we made up for it in sheer joy at Pocmont.

But, the very next year . . .

2010:

The hand on the leg? I die.

Not even an Olympic year. Still, I die.

2011:

Uncle Mistah Schleckah can talk them into anything.

Goodbye, 2011 . . . 

. . . and hello . . .

2012:

Oooh, the John H behind them!

There's not a lot we can depend on in this big bad world . . .

. . . but we still have these two knuckleheads to save the day.