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Spent the weekend in the Weeva, ostensibly for the Universe-Famous Berkeley Springs Apple Butter Festival, but really just to get out of the house and cavort with turning mountain leaves and celebrate (again) Ainsley's pop's 70th birthday.
Wednesday, the morning after their return from a month in China, Ainsley's parents were shocked by her arranged surprise stack-o-doughnut breakfast in the sunroom, complete with Dad popping by for a hole or two and an old friend of her mom's, whose daughter lives here in Woodbridge with two kids our kids' ages-ish. But I had to work (and had a doctor's appointment I'd been waiting six weeks for), so Saturday was my time to offer my gratitude for his longeviousness.
With a box of squirrel nut zippers.
Seemed appropriate.
It was Erin's first Festival, and although the weather cooperated with sunny skies and bearable temps, the parade itself was kind of "...inh?" Just didn't have the pizazz of earlier years. Perhaps I too-much missed the absence of the dudes in fezzes driving the boxcars. And the lack of livestock. And septuagenarian dancing girls.
But Ryan enjoyed himself immensely, which is all that matters. He picked up a bunch of candy threwn his way, which he handed to me and I'll give away for Halloween. He danced to the marching bands. He got to stir the 40-gallon pot of boiling butter with a stick the size of a lamp post. He ate pizza.
Erin still had trouble staying asleep, not helped by the new-to-her pack-n-play-n-crib that hurt our backs trying to lay her down in (and pick back up, without hitting our head on the low-slowed ceiling), so the nights were still a struggle to maintain sanity, but she slept 7 hours Thursday night, so we know she's capable. All in due time. As we realize, soon enough she'll be sleeping until noon every weekend, annoying us in a whole different way, out all night, who was that boy you were with anyway and what the hell was he driving?
Wednesday, the morning after their return from a month in China, Ainsley's parents were shocked by her arranged surprise stack-o-doughnut breakfast in the sunroom, complete with Dad popping by for a hole or two and an old friend of her mom's, whose daughter lives here in Woodbridge with two kids our kids' ages-ish. But I had to work (and had a doctor's appointment I'd been waiting six weeks for), so Saturday was my time to offer my gratitude for his longeviousness.
With a box of squirrel nut zippers.
Seemed appropriate.
It was Erin's first Festival, and although the weather cooperated with sunny skies and bearable temps, the parade itself was kind of "...inh?" Just didn't have the pizazz of earlier years. Perhaps I too-much missed the absence of the dudes in fezzes driving the boxcars. And the lack of livestock. And septuagenarian dancing girls.
But Ryan enjoyed himself immensely, which is all that matters. He picked up a bunch of candy threwn his way, which he handed to me and I'll give away for Halloween. He danced to the marching bands. He got to stir the 40-gallon pot of boiling butter with a stick the size of a lamp post. He ate pizza.
Erin still had trouble staying asleep, not helped by the new-to-her pack-n-play-n-crib that hurt our backs trying to lay her down in (and pick back up, without hitting our head on the low-slowed ceiling), so the nights were still a struggle to maintain sanity, but she slept 7 hours Thursday night, so we know she's capable. All in due time. As we realize, soon enough she'll be sleeping until noon every weekend, annoying us in a whole different way, out all night, who was that boy you were with anyway and what the hell was he driving?
posted by Dan at 10:35 PM
1 Comments:
He gives up his candy??? What have you done to the kid??
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