Jacqueline Festival

My Mom posted a photo yesterday and said, "Me and half my girls."

Jacquie, in her inimitable way, commented, "You can say A-list mom, the other 3 know where they stand."

"They stand in the deep, dark, murky mire," I concurred. 

"Oh hush," replied Mom, "I’m so lucky to have six A listers."

And that is all you need to know about Mom.

She's nice.

The rest of us? 

Not so much.

But man, was it fun to be with some fellow A-Listers this past weekend.

It was early; give us a break.

Wait a minute . . . that's not this weekend! Oh, that's from Asheville in June. There we are again. Coincidence? I don't THINK so.

Okay okay. Kidding. Mom's right. We're all A-Listers. I mean, see for yourself:

Jacquie is self-described "95% diaper"

ANYway. Other people besides us were around this weekend, too.

My girl Nancy? Delightfully in da house.

Okay, yeah, it was mostly us.

And why not? It was, after all, Jacqueline-Festival.

But wait. Look who else we got to see, earlier that selfsame day  . . .

Cousins!!

Oh our glorious cousins.

And oh, this glorious girl. My past self fashionista. She was a big part of the weekend. Don't even try to choose your favorite part because the tiekneesocksbangscurlstoofusshoesbeethoven are all going to win.

But anyway. Back to the celebrations.

 These friends added to the fun too.

Shot Bars make everything more fun.

And Amy sent these, entitled "Debate". 
I prefer "Never-ending Book Discussion".

But mostly, Jacquie-Fest was a lot of this:

We don't get to see this kid very often and she was here and we celebrated.

Are you sure I don't have something in my teeth?

And there was one whole hell of a lot of this:

Miss you already, dude.

See you in June.

And welcome to the Fifth Floor.

We've Got the Sun in the Morning and the Moon at Night . . .

The sun in the morning has been beautiful around here -- when it's not raining.

And the moon at night?

When it's not raining?

She's been beautiful, too.

It's really boring and dumb when people talk about their dreams, and I hate when dreams play a big part in novels, but, well, I had a dream last night that I was walking barefoot (even in my dreams, Mom) on coral and said something about the moon to the guy I was following behind and he said, "You know what phase the moon is in?" and I said, "Of course I know what phase the moon is in."

It's a Waning Crescent, dude.

. . . And the thing about a Waning Crescent, the last phase before a New Moon . . . ?

. . . you can see the whole moon, with just that tiny slice illuminated.

And that, my friends, is why the moon is so cool.

But you don't need me to tell you that.

By the way, Mistah did this moon photo shoot at 4 in the morning this past weekend. So I, personally, would like to thank Mistah's prodigious insomnia for these illuminating photos. Ha.

And in the morning? Well, Mistah takes those shots, too.

You know the words to the ol' ditty . . .

We've got the sun in the morning and the moon at night . . .  

And for both those Forces of Nature, I am ever grateful.

An Island, A Moon, A Leaf

"Hey Schleck, you have anything for me?"

"I do! I've got an Island, a Moon, and a Leaf."

An Island . . .

. . . A Moon . . .

. . . A Leaf.

I think Mistah just wrote us a poem.

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

And hey, congrats to all you Red Sox fans out there. That was quite a commanding victory in the World Series. You have got yourselves one hell of a team. Nicely done!

The World Serious

One more series to go in what's been a vastly entertaining baseball season.

One of the things I love most about baseball is its constancy all season long -- one can always tune in to a game. And if one has the MLB.com radio package, one can tune in to the likes of Milwaukee's Bob Uecker or Cleveland's Tom Hamilton or Chicago's Pat Hughes.

Or to the very best radio guy ever, our own National Treasure, New York's Howie Rose. And his sidekick Josh Lewin.

BUT. Neither the Mets nor the Cubs nor the Indians nor the Brewers is in this final series, so we'll have to settle for Boston's Joe Castiglione. We've been listing to Joe Castig all season long -- Mistah's Red Sox have won the radio wars around here this summer -- and I've gotten used to him, but he's still terrible. Legendary Vin Scully retired as the Dodgers radio announcer last year after 67 years -- I mean, c'mon Vin. You didn't have one more year in you? Your team is in the World Series! -- so maybe I can convince Mistah to check out LA's young Joe Davis for a game or two. Or at least an inning or two . . . Or wait, maybe he's the tv guy? Evidence is confusing and inconclusive.

Well, there's only one way to find out. Tomorrow night. World Series 2018, Game One.

The Boston Red Sox . . .

. . . versus the Los Angeles Dodgers.

I can't wait to hear who sings the National Anthem.

Play Ball!!

Fall Magic

Yesterday Mistah said, "I've got to get out in the Field and take some photos of Fall Magic."

"I wish you would," I replied.

Fall Magic is right.

When I was younger . . .  way way back many decades ago . . .

. . . I didn't like Fall because it was the end of Summer, and the beginning of Winter, and so dry and blah-dee-la-blah-blah-blah.

But the thing about Fall?

Even if it's not my favorite season? . . .

. . . is that it is *a* season.

And, ever-evolving as I am, it took me deep into my 50s . . .

. . . to figure out . . . 

. . . well, it doesn't take a genius to figure out, thankfully . . .

. . . that during this short time on this Earth of ours . . .

. . . there is no good reason . . .

. . . to wish away one season . . .

. . .  to get to another.

I know. I know! But it takes me a while to figure out stuff.

And this I learned:

Time flies.

It flies.


And because of this time-flying phenomenon, there is therefore only one thing to do at a time like this.

Jump on it, jump in it, and enjoy the ride.

Here's Hoping

Saturday was the 13th annual Terri Brodeur Breast Cancer Foundation marathon walk across southeastern Connecticut.

It was so very good.

It's a great Foundation, it's peopled by amazing volunteers and leaders, 100% of fundraising dollars go directly to breast cancer research, the grant recipients are *amazing* docs who are making a difference, today, now, as we speak.

It is so good. And it was such a great day. Those walkers? They walk and they walk and they walk and they arrive at the end and they have single-handedly raised money for breast cancer research and nothing is better than that.

photo cred: tbbcf fb page

Our amazing and incredible keynote speaker Johanna D'Addario spoke of Hope.

Hope.

It was brilliant and heartfelt and eloquent and I'm trying. But man, it's can be hard to have Hope right now. You know, because of being completely heartsick over the misogyny and bigotry and greed and disregard . . . Gah. All of that.

But I'm trying. I'm trying to Hope. And the TBBCF is nothing if not about Hope. And the foundation is making a difference. We are making a difference.

So Here's Hoping.

To Eat and To Drink

Aren't weddings the best?

Aren't they the most magical, joyful, optimistic displays of what is best in humans?

I think they are. I love weddings.

Plus? Well, there's the whole getting dressed up thing.

 Obligatory bathroom selfie before the Big Event.

Wait, is an obligatory bathroom selfie a thing?

Well, it's a thing now.

And the whole wedding dancing thing. I love the dancing thing.

And, well, the whole wedding eating and drinking thing.

I love the eating and drinking thing.

Yum, drinking.

And yum, eating.

And whose wedding, one might ask?

 These two lovelies.

And why these cellphone photos, one might ask?

Well, Mistah forgot more than just his belt.

But man, was it a lovely day.

Congrats, Gracie and Matt. Eat and Drink in good health and marital bliss.

And thanks for the enchanting night.