Today? Is my birthday. I do hear tell that there is some other sort of holiday happening today, but I am going to pretend right now that I did not have to share my special day.
Larry did himself proud by finally figuring out that my Amazon wish list titled "Gifts for (Your Wife's Name Here)" exists for a reason. As a result, I got a pile of books to go along with the pile of chocolate that he and the girls picked out at the local Harris Teeter.
Here's the chocolate (and, yes, that Raisinets box does seem to have been breached):
And here are the books:
You will observe that that is rather an eclectic collection, but that is because I'm an interesting sort of gal. Alas, all these lovely books will have to wait until I finish reading Amy Poehler's Yes, Please! I found that particular tome at the library the other day and have been enjoying it very much.
I don't know why I keep photographing everything with my Ektorp red couch as the background. It might be because I can't find another clear surface in the house on which to pose things. I wonder whether Dorothea Lange or Ansel Adams also experienced this problem. Alas, making great art is never easy.
David departed for Civil Air Patrol Encampment yesterday (he's on staff), and Rachel (a first-year) left today. I have to say, dropping a girl off for Encampment is different than dropping off a boy. Boys get out of the car, sling their duffel bags over their shoulders, and head for check-in, after delivering a curt nod of acknowledgement in the general direction of their parents. Girls, however, cluster together to fix each other's uniforms and jump up and down in excitement and giggle, all of which looks a tad incongruous when said gigglers are wearing military-issue BDU's. They also hug their parents good-bye with a level of emotion akin to that exhibited by the women and children climbing into life rafts on the Titanic.
It's really cute - trust me.
Larry's waiting for me to watch MadMen with him - I think we are halfway through the first season. I know! We're a little behind (well, 7 years behind, actually, but who's counting?). Don't spoil anything for us, okay?