vacaaaation
It's almost 10 am and I'm in my jammies still, feet up, browsing the internet. Sam is napping, Jack is shopping with Grandma. It's . . . quiet. So very quiet. For some time now.
Ahh. Lovely.
It's almost 10 am and I'm in my jammies still, feet up, browsing the internet. Sam is napping, Jack is shopping with Grandma. It's . . . quiet. So very quiet. For some time now.
Ahh. Lovely.
Just odds and ends here. I had to reorganize my room to make it more baby friendly. Geez, this kid gets into EVERYTHING.
Last weekend was an oasis of friendship. I realized I don't talk to many adults. Sure, there are librarians and retail workers, teachers and church members. But I don't have many friends and I rarely see them anyway.
First I went to Amanda's book club on Thursday. Amanda hosted, and played the part perfectly. Her food was delicious, plentiful, and interesting. The room was packed with lovely ladies and the conversation flowed.
Then the starring event: Miranda came to visit!!! Holy crap, I miss that girl.
We did the Baker neighborhood by having brunch at Atomic Cowboy, then lusting over colors and textures at Fancy Tiger.


Some quiet visiting.
Then I went to my first concert at Red Rocks - The Avett Brothers. Miranda is a HUGE fan of them. I definitely see their appeal. They were fabulous performers. I liked a lot of the songs they did. Their variety in sound is impressive and fun; some bluegrass, some hard rock, some folksy, some punk.

I'm not into music. It's fine and all, necessary to make dancing happen, and that's all good. But I'm not the type to study to it, clean to it, cling to it, or attend concerts. My first show was at the end of high school (Collective Soul at CU Coors Stadium). My last one was maybe 2007 (Neko Case at Boulder Theater). Probably fewer than 10 concerts in total. I find them too loud, too stinky, too long, too crowded, too expensive, and the sound is always worse than the albums.

Sam had a rough day today. He has a cold, as evidenced by copious boogers and puffy eyes and sleepiness. He got a big head bonk yielding a purply bump (though a daily occurrence, head bonks are sad). In a poopy diaper change I found an alphabet bead like this (the letter "V") that he must have found in my craft room while I was printing Red Rocks concert tickets. Yuck and ow.