Alum Creek

On Friday evening, Steve was sitting on the floor trying to fix the sweeper. Flip decided he would gracefully jump over Steve in an attempt to get to the stairs. Only...Flip is a big dumb lug. He  began his graceful jump, but apparently doesn't have good visual-spacial skills because he slammed his cement head into Steve's head. Here is the aftermath:

Flip: Totally unfazed.

Steve: Down for the count with ice

On Saturday, we went to Alum Creek. We hiked through the woods, visited the beach, and had a great time! Flip wasn't allowed on the beach and was VERY sad that he had to wait with me on the grass. Wm declared the beach "not nice."

The Not Nice Beach

The nature trails were super nice, though!! We will be back! We took Flip to the dog park there and he ran around like a maniac - he didn't full recover until Sunday evening!

I made us a traditional Sunday dinner of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and peas (much to Steve's chagrin!) Here is my constant cooking helper. It does make getting to the sink difficult.

Sous chef

Then, last night, Flip reeeeeally wanted to play tug-o-war, but was also soooo sleepy. This is him half asleep, trying to play:

This is also Wm's last week of summer! In fact, his last full week was last week. He starts school on Thursday!! I'm not sure how many pictures I will be allowed to take. He's getting grumpier about posing. He's at work with Steve today, he's coming to work with me tomorrow, then has one more day at home to chill out before Thursday.

I will end with a sad story of woe. We went up to the antique stores along High St because the geniuses are always setting their stuff out front and I see it on my walks. There was a chair that I wanted. I decided I must have it. So...up we went. Wm and I were sitting out front with the chair, waiting for Steve to pay for it (bargain!) when a homeless man walked up and asked if I was Wm's grandma. YEAH. I was like, "UH, NO!" And if he thought I was going to give him any money after that, he was SORELY mistaken. I then made the mistake of telling Steve. Who was delighted. And has, ever since, taken to needling me. For instance, he asked if I had an Werther's in my purse. :-/ Luckily, one of my friends pointed out that in that man's experience, women ARE grandparents before 40. So then I felt slightly mollified.

Oh, also, fucking Nazis, man. Can I not have to explain that action to my 11 year old kid, please??? Can we not have the news filled with this horrifying business? That would be great.

Me: Do you want to get a yard sign that says, "Hate Has No Home Here"?
Steve: Not really.

I was slightly annoyed. And then I realized that if my entire reaction is sticking a sign in my yard, I'm just Scott: