In which we are pelted with candy

Yesterday was the annual Community Picnic and parade.  It's one of those "isn't our town CUTE?" moments.  We moved in here almost exactly a year ago.  Our first weekend had this parade and gathering in the park.  It's a nice welcome, I tell you.  The parade was smaller this year, but the kids still got PILES of candy.  It's just the fire department and the local baseball teams, and the teams are judged on spirit and their "float" (most often a pickup truck with balloons on it).  As they go by, they toss candy to the spectators.  As it happens, we live next door to the judges.  The kids learned last year that if you stand with the neighbors, you get a lot of loot. 

They were really, really anxious for the parade to start.  Once they saw the flicker of light waaaaay down the road, they were getting ready, limbered up, loot bags open.  "They're almost here!!"


Really, it looks as much like a response to an emergency call as a parade.  We had more action when the neighbor called in a minor chimney fire.


The kids on the floats loooved throwing out the candy and our kids loooved scrambling for it.  I admit to a twinge when the truckload of pre-adolescent boys yelled "hey girls!" at Julianna and Molly and tossed the candy right at them.  I wanted to say "This is not Mardi Gras, young man!" but I was distracted by a piece of banana Laffy Taffy.  Snag!


The T-ball team gets a bit rowdy, so this year they kept them behind bars.


Here we are with the booty, Ben, Molly, Julianna, Me, Lily, and Hayley (digging into her bag):


And then we all walked down to the park for some bluegrass and balloon animals:

Spring, when a young man's fancy turns to death

Here's a link to the shutterfly page of Ben's cemetery pictures.  I have a great one on my phone that I still have to download.  But this'll have to hold you.

Ben's Graveyard Album

Ahhh early spring

I've done squat all day and the house shows it.  But hey.  It was 80 degrees.  Now I know that in August, that will seem like an arctic blast, but today it brought out the lazy in me (right, it was the weather).   But for lazy, we had a full day--took Julianna to school, went to swim lessons (indoor pools are less appealing when it's hot outside, let me tell you), and went to Hanover to help Stacey.  We were supposed to pick up Wuff's new cage, but I forgot to put the second row seat back in the van, so I couldn't flip down the back bench, so I couldn't fit it in. But there WAS enough room to stock up at the Utz factory outle. Got back to Frederick a little early, so I surprised Ben by stopping at a cemetary he's been admiring (pics to follow).  Then to get Julianna and then to Cold Stone.  Breathless Boston Creme Pie.  Eh. And the flavor of the month--red licorice--was reVOLTing.  And very, very red.

Back home, we hung up the hammock and just lay under the trees, rocking and snuggling.  Can't say it's such a bad way to spend an afternoon, really.  Beat the hell out of doing the laundry, that's for sure.  Who needs underwear, anyway. Not Ben, certainly.  Now we're going to eat a nutrition-packed meal of Ramen noodles and go to the park so that Julianna can watch a classmate play ball.  Watching baseball only ranks a little lower than being at the park in the first place (what IS it that makes trips to the park such torture?), but I'm in Good Mommy mode today, so they'd best enjoy it before the Shrieking Harpy of Scorn returns.

today's quotes

I was trying to teach Ben how to play hopscotch this morning. (and dear god, have there ever been less co-ordinated children?  His hopscotching looked like an Elaine Benes dance)  I showed him how to toss the rock into the square.  He directed me to stand up at the end of the board.  "You can be goalie."

Lily was in the back yard shrieking in the paralyzed terror that is the 2.5 year old Bug Fear.  "A Yadybug is on me!!!!"  I assured her that the ladybug had just come over to say Hi.  "Her didn't say anyfing to me."  "Oh, you just couldn't understand her."  "Oh, so do yadybugs speak Spanish?"

Guinea Pig Bathtime!

I noticed the last couple of days that the guinea pigs feel...oogy.  It's best not to think about WHY they might be oogy.  They're generally clean little things, grooming themselves like cats, but apparently they need baths now and again.  According to "The Proper Care of Guinea Pigs" (I'm a sucker for a British title), they need a washin' every 3 months or so.  We've had ours for 5, so I guess they're due.  Given the claw-and-tooth festival of fun that is a Cat Bath, I was braced for the worse.  I don't know why, since pigs are prey animals and not all that damn smart.  They freeze when frightened, so well, I just washed them.  It was totally worth it for the moment when they realized they were being submerged.  La, la. la. the people are holding me...dum de dum...GAH!!  WHAT THE!!  okay.  very still.  the Bringer of Wet will go away if I appear dead.  No one cares if a dead pig is clean or not. still.  stillll.....GO BREAK FOR IT! GO! crap.  try dead again...  They were crazy cute when all bedraggled and wet though:

Rosie and my Man Hands:


All snug in a towel  Awwww.


Ben insisted on being the photographer for the Washing of Gypsy.  He took about 10 pics. They all looked like this:


Devil pig in a dishtowel.  (sounds like a dish at a Peruvian bufffet)


And onto a heating pad in a pen until dry:

20,000 leagues into the Playroom

So I went into the playroom and found this: