Labor Day

Well, Labor Day is here.  That dreaded end-of-summer holiday that not only signals the closing day of the pool, but also the last day for white pants, shorts, skirts, dresses, shoes and purses AND the retirement of linens and seersuckers.  Boo.  Hiss.  But, before I get ahead of myself, I should share what was a pretty marvelous long weekend.
We literally kicked off the holiday at the Georgia Tech vs. Western Carolina football game Thursday night.
We lounged at the pool all day Friday and Saturday.
Sister and Bird came over while Honey and my Sister’s Mister were at Sunday’s Fantasy Football draft (of which I will never understand the allure.)  We drank watermelon frosties and noshed on a delish summer salad (prepared by Sister!)…

We attend a TWO convivial cookouts, one a seventh birthday party and one a Labor Day gathering resplendent with a whole hog (ew…I don’t eat things on bones).  Both with gigantic jumpy jumps (much to the pleasure of my littles.)  We took these…

Fall ball got off to a stellar start with an early Saturday morning scrimmage.
At nights after the littles were slumbering, we caught up on this…
…and played this…
And when the tornado warnings came today, we marched down to the newly finished basement (yay!), glued ourselves to the tele and enjoyed the aroma of our crock pot ribs wafting down from the kitchen.  When the tornados passed us by, we headed back up to dine on said ribs (not moi…per the aforementioned bone loathing), potato salad, tomato pie and apple pie a la mode.  At which point we rolled up the stairs and into our beds.
With that, I’m back to being despondent over the fact that Mother Nature robbed us of our last sun filled, seersucker-fied day of summer.
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Rats Nest

What do y’all call the crazy morning hair littles inevitably wake up with?  Around these parts, and for as long as I can remember, we call it a “rats nest”.  The culprit?  Why, the the rats that run rampant in the night, making their nest in our hair.  [In fact, this idea was so ingrained… Read More

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On My Bedside

After countless recommendations from numerous friends, I finally read Francine River’s Redeeming Love.  On the road to Rosemary Beach earlier this summer, I kept my nose buried in that book for five and a half hours straight (well… except when we drove through the Southern charmer known as Eufala, Alabama).  The novel is a masterful recount of the… Read More

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