Ode to El Brown

Like I've stated before, It's very hard for me to remember exactly how I become such good friends with those I consider my best.
Lindsay Brown. Where do I begin?

I started working as a cashier at Rocky's Pizza in Athens, GA. (This was during college, of course.) I have no recollection of the exact year. I want to say that it was 1996. Someone correct me if I'm wrong.
I worked with several catty college girls. Most were too cool for school. Brownie was never like that. She was always friendly and witty to boot.
I can't remember the details, but I know our becoming friends had something to do with these two things: me offering El Brown the use of my car for a few hours and a brown bag of hair gel that I jokingly referred to as her "mustache cream". How am I doing Brownie?
Needless to say, we hit it off as pals. And wouldn't you know it? The opportunity for us to become roommates presented itself after I kicked out a live-in boyfriend of 2 years.
Thus began the "I-don't-know-how-we-didn't-die-of-alcohol-poisoning-years". Ongoing humor, frosty beverages, townie boys, waitressing and the love of Scrabble kept us together back then. Mostly I remember the humor.



Going through my journal and belongings from those times, I can't believe I don't have more photos of Brownie. I can't find a single one that we are in together. It's hard to rely on just memory. Photos make it so much easier.

Some of my favorite memories include: Sitting on the front porch at our 'party', twiddling our thumbs and wondering where all the people were, when a few short hours later, we had about 100 people in our house, watching the Shawshank Redemtion VHS at least 3 times a day (whenever we sat down to eat) because we had no TV reception, sharing the mirror in order to primp before hitting the town, working the suckiest waitressing job evah, kitty factory, endless conversations about boyfriends and relationships, shifty tits and all those other Berg phrases, hang-over Scrabble, Win, Lose or Draw on bar naps with your sister at The Yacht Club, and so so many more that I need to stop now before I bore everyone else to death.
Uh, jump to the future: I have been digging deep for the past couple of hours and have come up with these:





Ah, memory lane. It's all flooding back. Anything for a laugh. Good times. Good times.

Anyway, Linsay is sharp as a tack. I have been trying to get her to write professionally for quite some time. And by quite some time, I mean YEARS. If she would just write a book...
At least she's taken a big step. And she might kill me for giving her a shout out like this, but she's started a blog! YAY! Go visit her at Spirit of 75. It will be a daily hit for me.

I swear to this day, that Lindsay and her sister Brooks, are the reason my baby came on her due date. The Brown Sistahs came from Bama for a visit two nights before Audrey was born. We laughed so hard. One word: Rebarb. I believe it was all that laughter that jostled Audrey down the birth canal.
Brownie, have I told you how much I love you?

I hate Doctors.

I haven't been to the girl doctor since I had Audrey. I liked my girl doctor. Actually, she was the fist doctor that I liked, EVER. I couldn't make an appointment with her though, because we no longer have that particular insurance.

So, I found myself at the computer screen, browsing our providers and searching for a name that I found to be non-threatening. That would be Dr.Pamela Brown. She sounded simple and clean, just what I wanted. And best of all, she was 3 minutes down the road. I wish they had pictures to go along with the names. That would be helpful.

I hate going to new doctors. The last one I picked didn't work out so well. I picked her because her last name was Wadsworth (close to mine). She sucked. All I needed from her was cough medicine, so that didn't matter much. Now, finding just the right girl doctor is a chore. I don't want to drop my pants for just anybody!

I arrived at Dr.Pamela Brown's office early because I knew I'd have to fill out the new patient paperwork, but also because I wanted some extra time to read through all of the smut magazines: In Touch, People, US, you know, that good celebrity smut.

I found the correct suite number, opened the door and immediately got a bad impression. All of the office furniture was that cheap, immitation, upholstered, frenchie stiff crap. That style has got to be my least favorite. Also, there were signs posted every two feet that said, "Absolutely no food or drink". It was overkill. Anyway, I found a not-so-comfortable loveseat to begin my paperwork. After finishing, I was excited to scout the room for some of my favorite doctor's office magazines.

Disappointment set in when I realized there were none to be found. I stood up for a better vantage point and did a 360 again....none. To my immediate left was a Children's Bible and to my immediate right a Parenting magazine. Do I really have to tell you which one I chose? I was so upset though, I was really looking forward to diving into Jolie, Pitt, Cruise, Spears, Simpson, Vaughn...... I needed an escape today. I thought mabye I'd buy a couple at Kroger while waiting for my perscription, but who am I kidding? I'm too cheap.

The actual appointment was fine, I guess. I won't be going back there though. Celebrity magazines are a must for the waiting room. Too bad they didn't have a suggestion box.

Interjection

For all story-telling purposes, I was sleeping in my birthday suit that night.

The next morning, Tim and Audrey joined me in bed. It was time for Mommy to get up. Audrey kept saying, "Hi momma, hi momma, hi momma," in the cutest voice ever. I couldn't help but open my eyes upon hearing that. She gave me such a reward for doing so- a sweet open-mouth kiss. After she pulled back from the kiss, she exposed me. Tim and I exchanged the same glance- let's see what she does.

She stared at them for a long time. And then, she burst out laughing while still holding her gaze. Tim and I succeeded at choking back our laugher, in order to see what else she would do. After she giggled, she looked at us and then re-covered my boobays with the sheet. Tears were pouring out the side of my eyes. She waited a minute and then uncovered just one. She took her pointer finger and precisly touched the tip of my nip. She said, "Oh!" The face she made afterwards was so funny, I can't even put it into words. It was almost as if she had tasted a lemon for the first time. Tim and I couldn't hold it in any longer. We laughed until we cried.

In conclusion, I guess she doesn't remember those nursing days.

I know I will most likely be re-living this moment in the near future. I just hope it's not during foreplay.

Chapter Five- The longest one yet...

CHAPTER FIVE
-Walking Out-

Just last week, we were coming home from celebrating Tim's birthday. His parents took us out to the only tiki bar in town. We had drinks and some appetizers and his mom brought him a box that housed a homemade double layer cake with rainbow dots in the icing. She makes the same cake for him every year. Anyway, we came through the door, let the dogs out as usual and put the cake box on the kitchen table. I walked up the stairs and flipped on the AC for the first time this summer. Tim came back inside with Byrd and Lincoln while I was upstairs using the restroom. I heard him click off the air. Bastard. I shouted down to him, "Will you please turn that back on?" I was roasting. "NO, I don't want it on." Hard-head. "Tim, WILL YOU PLEASE TURN IT BACK ON?" I'm sure he was shouting obscenities, but I couldn't hear them from where I was sitting. Reluctantly, he turned it back on and remained downstairs. I got ready for bed and crawled under the covers. I could hear him rustling around down there. I figured he was smoking a cigarette before coming up. I was just about to fall asleep, when I heard him enter the room. He went over to his side of the bed and grabbed something from the side table. He proceeded back down the stairs and I heard the front door open and close. I didn't hear the van start up so I irrationally rationalized that he had walked to the QT for some more smokes.
After a half hour, I woke up and sensed the emptiness in the bed. Asshole. Where is he? Doesn't he know I worry? Of course, we were both tanked when we got home, and he DID mention the he wasn't tired. Maybe he walked all the way to Garrett's house for some company. I wouldn't put it past him. I called Gar about 25 times and got the answering machine on each try. I was so ticked. I hate it when he leaves and doesn't tell me where he's going. It's happened more that once, but I usually have some idea of where he's gone and who he's with.
I got up and looked out the office window...the van was still there. I tried to call Garrett one more time and then I put on some pants, grabbed my purse and decided to drive over there. I was about to get into my car, but then, on intuition, I glanced inside the back of the van. His head was right near the window. Anger surged through me. I banged on the window and when he didn't respond I opened the door and grabbed the collar of his shirt and jerked him awake. "What the hell do you think you're doing you asshole? Why are you sleeping in the van? I was just about to drive over to Garrett's to see if you were there. I didn't know where you were." The whole time, I'm jerking him around and his head is bobbing against the plush interior. Finally, with his eyes still shut, he opens his mouth to say, "Get your fucking hands off me."
Before I released him, I snatched the glasses off his face, because that's the one thing he hates most. He's blind without them. No response. He was dead and he wasn't going to play along. I was steaming.
I bolted back into the house and then paused in the kitchen, not knowing what to do. I had to do something with all of that anger bottled up and no one to fight with. My eyes landed on the box that housed his untouched birthday cake. I opened it up and shoved his damn glasses right through the middle of it. A smile crossed my face when I saw that they were totally submerged in yellow fluff and rainbow dotted icing. I could finally go back to sleep.
The next morning was a Saturday. I had to go to work. I got up, got dressed and backed out of the driveway. The whole time I was cursing the van and what was inside. I wished I could have watched him grope his way back indoors.
A couple of hours into work, my cell phone rang. I glanced at it. The screen read "Dateproof". I answered and Tim asked, "Where are my glasses?" I answered dryly, "Inside the cake." "Okay." "Well, okay,"I said, "Bye." "Bye."

And that was that.

Do you want to know why he slept in the van that night? He was mad that I had turned on the air-conditioning. Martyr. Life with Tim G. is funny, but not funny "ha-ha".

Chapter Four

(Chapter Three will not be posted on the internet. It is way too incriminating.)
CHAPTER FOUR
-The Knot-

Tim and I have had some pretty rough adjusting periods. Marriage can just be miserable. Living with someone can drive you crazy whether you're married or not, I guess. We joke sometimes and are amazed sometimes at how we are on completely different wavelengths. When he's up, I'm down...you get the picture.
I've learned that men, in general, need to be left alone during these adjustment periods, especially when they are drunk. I have a knack for wanting to bring up issues when we are both sauced. Not a good idea. It always ends up in either one of two ways: I either jump in the shower, or he walks out the door.



Sidenote: We drank and partied a whole helluva lot more than I realized. Um, just for the record, we're not alcoholics or anything, umkay?

Chapter Two

Okay, since Flickr is down, I've read everyone's blog and I have nothing left to do but watch TV, I'll go ahead and post chapter two.

CHAPTER TWO
-DateProof-

It's funny to think of Tim slicing meat now. He's been a vegetarian for 7 years. Once in a while he will throw back a couple skrimps. The last time he did that, we were in Tampa at this amazing restaurant called the Columbia. His skrimp were swimming in garlic and butter. He ate every one. Later that night, they caused torment to Tim's tummy. He got real sick. Skrimps don't agree with his stomach too often. You see, Tim G. is prone to getting 'Poo-cano' (pronouned like volcano, but referencing a different sort of lava). I have to hear about it for weeks when it happens and sometimes I have to run to the nearest store to get some generic Immodium AD. All of our closests friends know about Poo-cano, probably a lot more than they ever cared to.

If someone would have told me back in middle school that I was going to marry that boy... well, I would have giggled myself to tears. Life is funny.

On the night of our first real date, Tim G. slept over at my house. Do you know that we both passed out (fully clothed) due to the tons of alcohol we consumed? When we awoke that next morning, we were still holding hands. Our hands were locked together in the exact same way they were while we were talking and staring up at the ceiling the night before. Niether of us remember "falling asleep". I can honestly say that never in my life have I consumed as much drinky drinky as I had the previous night. My stomach was furious with me when I woke up. I Ralph Machio-ed mucho until I heard a soft knock on the other side of the bathroom door. Tim said he had to go. I pulled myself up from the claw-foot tub to open the door just a pinch. I covered my puke-stained mouth with a towel and barely got out a "good-bye" before almost spewing through the crack. He let himself out and I returned to the tub. That's one of my quirks- I always throw up in the tub. The Throne is such a disgusting place. The thought of what goes on there just makes me more sick.

Later, that afternoon, I called Tim to see if he wouldn't mind driving me back downtown to pick up my car. The whole way there I was too embarrassed to say anything. And because he had nothing to say, I thought for sure, this was it. He dropped me off and upon doing so gave me a CD that he had made a cover for. It read, "Birthday Showdown! This Time You Lose!" Boy, had I ever. But I had also won.

Per Request

Okay, some of you kids have read this before and may even have your very own copy. (Thanks for not throwing it away..heh heh.) Anyhoo, Suzanne does not. I have had fun revisiting this 'zine' and I hope you will too.



YOU HAVE TO START SOMEWHERE- Issue One

CHAPTER ONE
-Freak Magnet-

Life is funny. But not funny 'ha-ha'. My boyfriend always says that. And he's right.

Tim G. That's his name, my boyfriend turned husband. I still call him my boyfriend. I also call him asshole every now and then. Sometimes he deserves it, and sometimes he doesn't. Every girl should be so lucky to meet their own Tim G.

I know what you're thinking...
You're thinking that this is going to be some sappy story. It's not. It's just the story of us. Me and Tim G. with one hand on the dog.

You know that you really love someone when you can still bear to listen to their stories over and over again. I can tell you a million Tim G. stories, but I'll never be able to tell them as well as he can. He is a natural Ham. Ham is a word that we use often in our house. I don't know which of us would win for Biggest Ham- it would be a tie I guess, because he would say it was me, and I would say it was him.

Tim G. and I met a long time ago, when he was a nerd and I was a nobody. We went to school together. Middle School. We never talked to each other......ever. I was friends with his best friend, but never with him. We had classes together and even worked together during high school but never talked. When we were working at Blimpie during the lunch rush, he'd slice the meat and I would dress the sandwiches in silence.

Happy 14 Months Punky!

RIGHT NOW...

My favorite thing about you is: your ability to recognize things. For example, when you hear the phone ring, you stop everything and look for where the sound is coming from.
If we’re in the kitchen getting ready to eat breakfast and you hear the Sesame Street Theme Song in the other room, you raise your eyebrows and start clapping along.
Everyday, about the same time, we’ll be playing in your room and the dogs will start barking. You run to the gate that blocks the doorway and yell, “Da-Da! Da-Da!” You know to expect the sound of turning keys, and then, the opening of a door. It will only be a matter of moments before he’s up the stairs and whisking you into his arms.
Your spacial awareness is also growing more keen. You will put your hand out behind you to feel for the wall before leaning up against it. I saw you get on your hands and knees and reach up under your kitchenette to get a dusty book. You couldn’t have done that last month.
Your ability to recognize humor also tickles me. One of your favorite things to do is to ‘share’ your bottle. You think it’s so funny when we pretend to drink your Ba-Ba or hug your lovies (turtle and owl baby). You are quickly learning the concept of yours, mine and ours. I don’t know how happy I am about the ‘mine’ concept. (Thanks Papaw!)
My most favorite thing of all that you do now is you give the best, most endearing hugs. AND you say, “Awwww” while doing so. You’ve even been known to simultaneously pat your dad on the back. What talent! You’re just too damn cute right now.

The biggest relief would be: if you would go back to the wonderful napper you once were. You are such a pill to put down now. You fight. You charm. You wiggle. You scream. Never before have I had to put you down and let you cry it out. I hate it. I’ve done it the past two days, and yes, you DO finally go to sleep, but I just know you are cursing my name as you doze off. Is there any other way? I’m hoping that it’s just your teeth. (Everything gets blamed on the teeth.) Otherwise, my hair will be growing gray much faster than I’d like. I really don’t need any more wrinkles either. Please, try to be co-operative this month!

What I’m most looking forward to is: I can’t believe I’m typing this, but for daycare to start. I’m worried that you are getting bored here at home with me. You're getting tired of playing with the same toys and being in the same boring rooms. I think you need some new stimulation. Also, you are growing somewhat clingy (not that I mind too much) and I think it will be in your best interest to play with other kids. Just don’t teach them the ‘mine’ concept, okay? I don’t need any phone calls at age 1.

New words: No Ma’am, No (You are also shaking your head no.), Kitty, Shoe, Shirt, Night-Night, Diaper, Water, Getchu, Hair, Ear, Nose, Right Here!, Go Bye-Bye, Mom-mah! (when you really really want something). Your ability to understand what is being said to you is amazing. I can command you to dance, point to body parts, stand up, sit down, go nigh-nigh, blow kisses, get me a wipey, get me a diaper and probably much more that I’m forgetting. You even try unsuccessfully to dress yourself. Your thirst for knowledge and independence is amazing, and scary, all at the same time.

Some of the funny things you've done lately: Just today you started chasing me around the room. You could barely walk because you were giggling so hard. I loved it. You almost kicked it into a run, but you’re not quite that fluid yet.
I was in the shower a couple of days ago and you were in your playpen, as usual. I heard you scream something. You hardly ever raise your voice to that level. I pulled back the shower curtain so that you wouldn’t be so muffled and you screamed it again. “ELMO!” You were clapping your hands together and looking up at the TV I left on for background noise. Never in my life have I seen you so excited. What IS it about Elmo?
You play peek-a-boo now: You cover your own eyes and then say, “Boo,” instead of releasing your hands first. It’s still cute.
When you’ve had enough of being inside you will either grab your monogrammed bag or find my keys or purse and say, “Bye-Bye!” If those items are not in sight you will simply go to the door and reach the knob while repeating, “Bye-Bye!” If I don’t succumb to your wishes you will promptly throw a fit. Yes, they have begun.
And finally, you have started doing little stunts, like this one:

Audrey, you have always been your own person, from the moment you arrived in this strange world. I am just getting so many more glimpses as to who that person is exactly.
You seem to have a new sparkle in your eye this month. I’m not quite sure, but I think I see a little sneakiness there. Some parents might be worried. I, on the other hand, expect it from my daughter. Frankly, I’d be a little worried if you didn’t have the sneaky gene.

Who will be Governor?

Is anyone watching the question and answer session for the democratic candidates for governor of the state of Georgia? I am. Let me tell you how funny this is. It amazes me that some of these people have gotten this high up. One candidate, Mac McCarley, responded to a question by saying, "I have a gay grandson and if someone tried to hurt him I'd probably go at him with a baseball bat!" (Of course this is paraphrased and out of context, but still quite amusing that someone would use those exact words in such a setting.) In response to another question about raising the drivers' license age he said simply, "I agree with the lady." (Cathy Cox) But that's all he said! OH LORD! Another one. The question was: "How do we take care of our kids and make sure they have health insurance?" He paused for a long time and then said, "I think I'll pass on that, thank you."
He's just such a typical southern good ol' boy. Again, how in the world did he get there?

For the record, I'm voting Cathy Cox. Mark Taylor seems competent enough, but I find Cathy Cox to be impressive and extremely well spoken.

Tonight: 14 Month Update (I'm still working on it)

WTF?

I must be PMSing. I just shed tears because the little baby flower was reunited and planted next to mommy flower and daddy flower.
These kids' shows are killing me.

Pampered.

Our dogs have been scratching their fur off. The fleas are the worst they've ever been. We broke down and bought the good stuff for them. (After the cheap stuff didn't work for crap.)
So, Tim took Lincoln in first.
You know, the house just stinks when the dogs get baths. And then they, without fail, manage to jump up on the bed and roll around on every inch before we can shoo them off.
Anyway, when they finished I took Byrd in for her 'dip'. I started to run some fresh water and noticed an almost empty Bath and Body Works cucumber body spash in the corner of the tub.
"Tim, what did you shampoo Lincoln with?"
He opens the bathroom door, finds the bottle on the tub's edge and hands it to me. "Here, use the rest of this. When you're done you can use this one." (He's holding up a different bottle of smelly goodness.)
"What the hell are you doing? This is good stuff. You used THIS on Lincoln? Are you crazy?"
He replies, "You never use it. These were gifts."
"I DO TOO USE THE STUFF! Look! It's $9 a bottle."
"So."

Yeah, SO.
Next thing I know he'll be buying the dogs diamond collars.
It's been a long day.

AGAIN?

Well, yes it happened again. She pooped in the bathy right after this shot. I can't believe this kid. The strange thing is that I'm getting used to it. It didn't even phase me this time.
I am not looking forward to the day that she does this in the pool. Do you know how hard it is to get those swimmy diapers off of them? And to have it "full"? That would be a nightmare.

Bubba = Belly

Audrey and Tim came back to bed when I finally woke up this morning. We love to play in bed in the morning. It's our weekend ritual.
Audrey plays her 'Bubba' game: She says, "Hi Bubba" while pulling up our shirts and patting our bellies. (Well, she doesn't exactly pat Tim's because she's afraid of his hairy stomach.) Anyway, this morning she was taking turns looking at our 'bubbas' and then, in her haste, instead of trying to lift up Tim's shirt she missed a little. She caught the bottoms of his boxers that were wedged up a little higher than usual. She said, "Hi bubba!" while attempting to pull his boxers from the bottom up. Tim quickly grabbed her and and said, "Whoa! Not my bubba!" Audrey looked at me confused.
I said, "Yeah, that's mommy's bubba!"

WOOT!

Holy crap. I almost threw my computer across the room. I made sure I put my credit card information in ahead of time so I could just go on ticketmaster and click right at 10am. For some reason it asked me for my info again and then said, "ERROR. You're information has already been saved."
WELL THEN WHY DO I HAVE TO ENTER IT AGAIN?
There was no simple purchase button at that screen. So, I entered the info in again 3 times. Each time the new error message would come up it would say in red letters:
IF YOU DON'T COMPLETE THIS FORM IN 1:30 SECONDS YOUR TICKETS WILL GO BACK UP FOR SALE (something like that)
And guess what? My tickets went back up for sale because I ran out of time.

I was sweating. "NOOOOOOOO!" I tried to purchase again.
SORRY, THERE ARE NO TICKETS AVAILABLE FOR THE SHOW YOU REQUESTED.
Fark!
I tried again. Shwooo. I got some. This time I just entered a new credit card. That worked.

Bummer. I don't get my American Express Rewards.
Who cares? I'm going to see Tom Waits!!!

Keep Your Fingers Crossed

Tom Waits tickets go on sale tomorrow at 10am.

On the Road Again

Audrey and I jumped back in the car Wednesday and headed for Knoxville, Tennessee. That's where Kitely Mae lives now. Knoxville: Where people are nicer. Where there's more greenspace. Where they have teeny tiny grocery carts for bay-bays.

Suzanne, driver of The Malibu (what I call it) or Bahama Mama (what Tim calls it)was the most awesomest host. See The Malibu below:

Why was she an awesome host? Not because she drives an awesome one-of-a-kind car, but because she made me my most favoritest bread: Banana Nut Bread. AND she made banana pudding! AND she surprised Audrey with the Little Pea book that was on her wish list.

We did so many fun things and I have several pictures, but I think the most hilarious time was had a the grocery store. Yes, it can happen! We were laughing our butts off watching those two girls have their own demolition derby.

Oh, and Suzanne drove us to Pigeon Forge. I will save the details for another post, but in short- FREAKING WEIRD PLACE. I don't know of any other place where you can pan for gold, buy a ticket to the Jesus Theater, ride go-carts, visit the Elvis museum, take a helicopter ride, feed five live bears...I could keep going. It was weird.
Anyhow, on the way back home from The Redneck Riviera, the girls were getting restless. In order to settle them down, I started quizzing them on their body parts. I was impressed with how coreographed they seemed to be.
Where is your hair?

Where's your nose? (Notice Kitely's finger- heh heh)

Where are your toes?

These girls are like trained monkeys. This parenting thing is going to be easy.
Suzanne, I've already eaten half the loaf you sent home with me. Damn good. Oh yeah, Tim thanks you for the Moon Pies Phillip! He laughed. He's saving them for tomorrow.

Ahhh. Relaxed.

This was the Road Trip of Enlightenment. We had such a great time visiting with Kelly and Joel. We pulled in their driveway at around 2:30 in the morning. We did the exhausted chat for about a half an hour and then hit the sack. That next morning, we sat around and had something similar to a group therapy session. I joke, but all four of us have a way of talking without any inhibitions. It’s great.

Joel made me cry over my “Moons of My Hammy” at Denny’s, Kelly posed for silly lets-take-our-shirts-off-and-stand-in-the-middle-of-the-street photos, Audrey couldn’t stop chasing Pomi (their doggie) all over the house, we made a drive by Hulk Hogan’s house (unfortunately he wasn’t outside), we scored big at the thrift stores, we had an amazing trip to beach and we bought the Super Play Yard XT which the husbands took turns sitting in with Audrey (I hate it- it’s just a larger cage than the pack-n-play).

The reason why I dub it the Road Trip of Enlightenment is because Kelly and Joel told us we had to watch this movie called What the Bleep Do We Know? It was about quantum physics, which I’d heard of but knew nothing about. That was a very cool video. I suggest everyone watch it. It made sense to me. It made me want to change the way I think about things. I know that sounds hokey, but damn, it was moving. (There was a cheesy story line that went along with it, but the actual information and theories were very interesting.)
Anyway, I’m not sure everything in that video was science, but it was food for thought.

The other reason I became enlightened was because Joel burned us the CD of The War of Art. We listened to it all the way home. I decided that I need to get up off my ass and DO something. I don't necessarily agree with everything in that either, but there were some valid connections made.

It was self-help weekend. It’s nice to have a librarian as a friend. She researches answers for you while you’re watching Jaws, she emails you a cool website in which you can read children’s books online, and she turns you on to interesting books to read. In addition to being The Helpful Librarian, she’s also a pretty damn good friend.
Click here to see the slideshow if you dare:
Thanks for opening your house to us. We had a wonderful time.

Audrey, I have to mention, freakin’ loved the ocean. I thought she’d be scared, but on the contrary, she dove in headfirst twice. She giggled and splashed at the waves coming in. She wanted to go deeper into the water. She watched her toes sink into the sand and the best thing of all was when she actually looked out at the horizon line. I found that to be amazing. She realized the vastness of the sea.
When the storm came in, everyone scattered off the beach. We lingered for little longer than most. Finally, Tim walked her up towards the dry sand to leave. I watched in amazement as she wriggled her hand free from her daddy’s, turned and waddled back to the waves. She wanted more.

Side note: It’s the 4th of July and we’re at home doing laundry and watching bad TV. How’s everyone else enjoying that thunderstorm?
Sweet! Oh Brother! Where Art Thou? just came on.