Yes, we’ve been back from our east coast trip for a week and a half and I’m just getting around to this post. You are probably figuring it’s the staggering number of photos, or perhaps the intimidating stack of stories that’s holding me back, right? Or maybe you know me better and assume I’m just sitting around drinking scotch and watching Mad Men.
As it turns out, you’re… you’re… well you’re partially right on that one. BUT I have a bone to pick with you nonetheless. Last week it seemed like a really grand idea to give Honey’s room an overhaul. I had terrific images of snapping my fingers and getting that room shipshape in no time, but as it turns out, Mary Poppins was magic and I’m not quite so when I snapped I triggered an avalanche. I’ve been buried in that room for days, under piles of drawings and stuffed animals and clothes and Japanese erasers and dress ups and stuffed animals and cleats and playmobil and stuffed animals and bags and books and figurines and mysterious clay objects and did I mention stuffed animals? Days, guys. Did you hear the muffled cries for help? That was me.
I’m totally asking for a Saint Bernard for Christmas.
The good news is that I finally clawed my way back up to the surface. There might even be some photos once the room is completely back in place. In the meantime, here are some beach shots.
Ahhhhh. Really is there anything like the beach? (Thanks to Tom for those middle two images.) We had a spectacular time, and it’s good to be home. I think.