Tuesday, December 31, 2013

The Roy

Years ago, at UConn, Mistah and Da Dowd knew a guy named Roy.

Roy played on their intramural dorm softball team. And Roy, well . . . wait, why am I telling you all this? Let's go straight to the horse's mouth. As it were. Let's see what Mistah has to say about playing softball with Roy:

Roy was an unlikely athlete. He was hefty, and wore glasses that stuck to his head. He looked like a sure out.

But almost every time at bat, Roy would rip the cover off the ball and end up on base.

When he took a lead, we all got a chuckle. He had a stupendous way of pumping his arms up and down and flexing his legs, as if he might steal at any moment.

His basepath machinations were so revered by fellow players that his techniques were later adopted at dorm parties. When the keg was near-empty and the less-than-graceful men took to the dance floor to impress the ladies -- or at least to amuse themselves -- exclamations of "Do The Roy" echoed into the night.

And my people, some things never change.

Because, frankly, what *else* would Mistah and Da Dowd do on Christmas?

May I present? The Roy.








Everybody, Do The Roy.

Monday, December 30, 2013

an inspired idea

Let's talk about Christmas! After our whirlwind of a fall season, we were excited to spend Christmas at home, just us. Our kids are in a pretty great groove of getting along these days, and it's making for some very happy times together. Happy times tend to be rewarding around here.

Case in point:



Surfboard for her, skateboard for him. Inspired. I love an inspired idea, who doesn't?

And everyone knows what happens when someone has an inspired idea around me. Like, for example, the inspired idea that mom and MB and Ellie had to have a lebanese feast for Christmas Dinner? What happens is that I copy it.

Stuffing. and Rolling. And stuffing and rolling.
Inspired.

I'll see your what it's all about and raise you one koosa

and if you thought *that* was an inspired idea...



We had the inspired idea to take ourselves on a Christmas Day Westy adventure to Sunset Cliffs




errrr, smiles?

If one must brood, why not brood here?
It's never easy being away from family on Christmas, or any other holiday. We comfort ourselves by being... you know, here. And by coming up with ideas for new and exciting adventures together as a wee family unit.

Inspired ideas.

Friday, December 27, 2013

Growling with delight

Okay, am I going to have to be the one to say it? You want to hear what's it's really all about? It's about the presents!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

KIDDING!

I kid. I do. It's NOT about the presents.

But, ever since I can remember, and even before then, I have received gifts on Christmas day. You know, frankincense and myrrh and the like.

Well this year was no exception. This year I received some really amazing gifts actually. All three of my girls made something for me -- swoon, as did my sister-in-law. Really, what can be better than that?! Homemade gifts just for me?

Nothing, that's what.

However, my very favorite of the purchased gifts that I received was this bad boy:





My very own growler from the Fargo?! Really? I didn't even know they had growlers.

The Fargo, as Marty can attest to, is the quintessential small-town bar. Cheers-like in many ways. If you live in Aurora, you go to the Fargo. If you go to the Fargo, you're gonna know someone there. The first telephone number I ever committed to memory as a young girl was the Fargo's. (Sorry to out you, mom.) The place we went to drink away our sorrows after both my dad's and my uncle's deaths was the Fargo. And of course, Eddie, the bartender, knew that I wasn't quite 21 when my dad passed. I thought I'd pulled one over on him, that he thought I was of legal drinking age. But no. Of course he didn't. He's known me since I was born. It's the FARGO.

So, when I opened up this gift, I was smitten.

All the more so because I live within walking distance of Stone Brewery's new location. I see the people walking in and out of there with their empty-then-filled growlers. I see the happy anticipation as they enter, the careful selection process, and the satisfied looks as they exit.

I have envied these people.

But no more. I have my own growler now. And not just any growler. My own Fargo growler. Now, that is also what's it's all about, people.

Thursday, December 26, 2013

You Want To Hear What It's All About?

You Want To Hear What It's All About?

Oh, I'll tell you what it's all about.

This, my friends, is what it's all about.

This.

This very thing.

Oh, and this, too.

Happy Boxing Day!

Wednesday, December 25, 2013

Merry Christmas!




...and all is right with the world.

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Christmas classics

Merry, merry Christmas eve!!

A few classics for your xmas eve enjoyment, should you find any downtime in your day today. (Hohoho!)



How the Grinch Stole Christmas (1966) by Francisiii



Frosty The Snowman by SantaKlaws

Monday, December 23, 2013

Bluff Point

Yesterday it was a balmy 62º in Southeastern Connecticut.

(Tomorrow night it's predicted to drop to 10º. That's a 50º drop in 60 hours. You do the math.)

And when it's a balmy 62º in Southeastern Connecticut in late December, there's only one thing to do . . .

. . . That's right. Go to Bluff Point.

Bluff Point is one of three state parks on the water in just our tiny little corner of our tiny little state . . .

. . . and it is pure spectacular.

Especially when it's  a balmy 62º in Southeastern Connecticut . . .

. . . in late December.

There are rocks, there is water . . .

. . . there is a Mistah . . .

. . . a rugged, hiking Mistah . . .

. . . a rugged, hiking, manly Mistah.

We had ourselves a spectacular time.



Even Ledgie got into the act.

And on the second half of the hike . . .

. . . it's all enchanted forest.

Totally enchanted . . .


We'll see you soon, Bluff Point . . .

. . . thanks for the great day . . .

And Merry Christmas Eve Eve.

Friday, December 20, 2013

yaaaaaaay! beach! swimming!

With these unrelenting stories,  you'd think our recent beach camping trip lasted 3 years, not 3 days.

This is definitely maybe the last one. It kept getting lopped off from the end of other posts, just waiting quietly in the drafts line- up for the moment when it could be revealed in all its sunny, canine glory.

This, my friends, is the moment.

San Elijo is aces for humans and beasts alike. Every soul will find plenty of time to relax, unwind, have a drink, read a book, sniff dogs butts, whatever floats your boat.

The humans, however, have more freedom to explore untethered. Beasts are expected to remain at camp, tied loosely but tied nonetheless. There is but one corner of that vast expanse of beach where the beasts are welcome to run free: Dog Beach!

After we'd packed up the westy and vacated camp on Thanksgiving Eve, we made a pit stop   
 
Yaaaaaaaaaay! Beach! Swimming!
  
What? In there? Oh no thank you dear, I'm fine up here on the sand.

This is my favorite seat.
disaPOINted

Wait, I think I hear someone calling me.


I'll just have a little drinkie poo
K. ready, set...

Yaaaaaaay!
Swimming?
Beach! Swimming! Frisbeeeeeeee!
That was awesome.