The Weekend Update

This week has been unseasonably cold for Florida. Too cold for me, really -- took me back to my life's detour at The Fashion Bug in Nampa, Idaho, where on many a winter morning, I pulled on gloves, scarf, ear warmer thingy, two pairs of socks, boots, coat with the hood, and then remembered I had forgotten to put on those wonderful silk long johns my aunt sent me before I moved to Idaho, so I had to undress and start over; and then I drove to work, got out of the car and made the loooooong trek across the shopping center parking lot to open the store in that cutting, murderous wind that smelled like sugar beets. Okay -- it wasn't really that cold here -- but when I wake up expecting 66 degree weather and it's 44 degrees outside, it's all relative.

The point is that it was perfect weather for a bonfire this weekend, so we went to one hosted by some friends of ours from church. We provided the wood (remember those dead oak trees Joe and Mike cut down last weekend? -- well here they are):



It was a doozy of a bonfire. The bonfire attendees participated in the customary bonfire activities -- wienie roasting, marshmallow toasting, kum-bah-yah singing (well, only the one guy). The only downside to a huge bonfire is this:



Look how far away those poor marshmallow toasters had to sit from the fire. Eventually, the few souls who braved the coals with their coat hangers did it from a fully reclining position, on their bellies. Everyone else toasted their marshmallows Casey-style by toasting them for 6 seconds or less, declaring them perfect, and eating them straight off the stick.

Sweet Kari stayed home with our boys, so Joe and I got to sit in one place without moving for something like three hours straight. Dez was so happy for us, she sat in one place without moving, too:



I know what you're thinking -- you're thinking that I was taking this picture from a fully reclining position while holding the camera with one hand and a coat hanger with the other -- and while that would explain why the picture appears to have been taken by a leprechaun somewhere in the vicinity of Joe's feet, I was the one who sat in the beach chair -- for three hours, without moving. It was fantastic.

Check out Joe's jacket -- he calls it "vintage Tommy Hilfiger" -- which is a euphemism for "the jean jacket my wife bought me 15 years ago when we were dating that refuses to wear out so I insist is still in style by calling it 'vintage'." We're going to save it for Casey to wear.

Today we played a little soccer in the front yard. Or at least, Casey, Joe and I played soccer. Mace played a game with his imaginary friend, the Cone Gremlin, who charged a toll of one cone for each trip across the field:







The Cone Gremlin is satisfied [burp].