The Johnsons

Years ago, many members of my family went to a lovely Asian Fusion restaurant near Mom's condo for a celebratory dinner.

We terrorized the place.

I don't know what happened, I don't know what was in the wine, but I do know that at the end of the meal, we all had our napkins on our heads.

Oh, it was celebratory all right.

On Saturday night, many members of my family were dining on a lovely chicken tiki masala dinner the lovely Jacqueline prepared for us, and we were reminiscing about the restaurant, and how we could never go there again.

"We'd have to have an alias," Mistah suggested. "We'd have to say we're the Johnsons." "From Newbrey," added Jacquie.

They'll never recognize us.

And that, my friends, is how this weekend is progressing.

 We're rolling . . .

. . . we're toasting . . .

 . . . we're -- okay, they're -- walking . . .  (And thank you, Mom, for letting me steal all your photos.)

. . . we're feasting . . .

. . . and believe me. That Asian Fusion restaurant had nothing on either Jacquie's tiki delight, or yesterday's Lebanese Birthday Lovefest.

Wait, did somebody say Birthday?

Happy Day to our Darling Littlest! 

(And thanks you two for saving the day with the 5:53 packy run . . . )

Now, let's keep this weekend rolling.

Love,
Ellie Johnson