Carnage

I am not clumsy, I do not fall, I do not break my body apart. I mean, typically I don't. There are exceptions, sure. But I haven't tripped over my own feet since I was a kid, when my feet grew before my body did and I stumbled over them walking across an empty room and boyohboy did Mom and Dad think that was funny.

This weekend, though? Yesterday I sliced up my fingah tips. I'm FINE. I'm totally fine. But I was bleeding everywhere so I band-aided up and then I couldn't type. And even though I always wear gloves out in the Field, I have some class of poison-ness on my wrist. And even though I always wear shoes -- wait, I never wear shoes -- no wonder I smashed my toe on the curb.

There were broken glasses and broken olive buckets and oh, there was blood. But still. It was the first beautiful weekend of the Season and we had ourselves a Time.

On Friday we had a drink-poo with Rachie-Rach, as per, and the next thing we knew a parade of lovelies marched into our Field. Unexpected, unplanned, unprecedented.

One day I'll tell you.

Saturday I showed off my golf swing.

No, I do not golf.

. . . and I photo-bombed the Madohme . . .

. . . and Kelly worked the rice paddies.

Earlier in the day adorable children ran amok out there . . .

. . . oh they're adorable . . .

. . . and nothing makes them happier than when their brother Ben runs amok with them.

Oh, wait, the weekend actually began on Thursday, back when it was still winter. (I saw somebody post, "We went from Seattle to Orlando in a weekend.") The Connecticut Keys, baby.

So, okay, there were broken glasses . . .

. . . but not before we gleefully drank from them . . .

. . . and at least the peonies survived.

Oooh a Field Shot!

And if friends and bubbly and beer* . . .

*beer

. . . and munchkins and gardening and peonies and shrimp and family and air golfing and blood weren't enough . . . 

. . . the Quote Book got some new additions. Have I blogged about our quote book? Have I? I will soon. Because the Quote Book is utterly the best.

If only, Mistah. If only . . . 

Plus? Blood.