The Dog Days

You know it, I know it; everybody knows it.

These are the Dog Days of Summer and it is the most magical time of the year and I don't want to hear a peep out of any of Santa's elves -- it's true. 

It is pure gloriousness.

And also? It is pure let's-see-what's-on-the-phone time of the year because who has time to think?

Because let's face it. If you're working hard in August, you're either a brain surgeon or you're an over-achiever.

And I am neither.

There has been a lot of beach-going . . . 

(and pretend you can see Ledgie behind Mistah's head) . . . 

. . . there has been cousin-visiting . . . 

. . . oh man, how we love our Amy.

She got a new plant-hat whilst she was here.

What else?

These adorable dollfaces stopped by one afternoon . . . 

. . . my cousin Kristen texted me with a photo of our wedding matches she found in her parents' house and I texted right back with our own righteousness.

Oh the Little League World Series. Oh the heart palpitations. Oh that glorious Budarz Clan . . . 

Can of chardonnay for the Mistah in the Field? Oh, I think so . . . 

. . . and of course I won a Summer Reading library prize. What do you take me for?

Hey, thanks for the cool photo of us, Kimmie . . . 

And finally, the Girls of Summer . . . Oh those Girls . . . 

Man, I love summer. Man, I love this summer.

And I am thankful for every Dog Day moment.