Sanity, recovered.

I just returned from a luxurious four day weekend in which I performed twice and slept approximately as much as a traquilized narcoleptic. Get up? Why? I had no plans that couldn't be cancelled. The only problem with going back to sleep after waking up once is that I tend to have either nightmares or really intense sex dreams. Why? Couldn't tell ya. In between sweaty, heavy sleepiness, we weeded, cleaned, walked around the neighborhood, visited the Japanese Gardens with Tara and Lee, ate much grilled cow, lit things on fire (emits showers of sparks!), watched Will and Grace reruns, played with the birds and only took showers prior to leaving the house. The laptop heaved a last sigh and generated a kernel panic, so I couldn't even play Bookworm. Oh, and I got an excrutiating and marvelous massage in my livingroom. It was a good pain, never mind the screaming.

As most family outings begin by our smacking our heads for not remembering to bring the camera, Christian stapled it to his hand this weekend as we knew there would be many fabulous chances to take pictures of me screaming, "Don't take a picture of me!" At the Japanese Gardens, we got to combine two of my favorite things: herpetology and the elderly. We each purchased a bag of koi food that is much beloved by the resident red eared sliders in the pond as well, so we got to feed all the wildlife. Every time a turtle would open its mouth to eat, one of the four of us would make a sound that a turtle would make if eating in an animated film. Yes, we're five, and yes, we like cartoons. We're just providing the soundtrack.















The tour guide was an adorable and quite aged little woman who could not have been less than 85. She walked us around at a leisurely pace and I wanted to carry her at certain points as she was a little tottery. The best I could do was offer an arm.

Christian and I also took a long walk around the neighborhood yesterday as my legs were going to leap from my body in protest if I didn't get some exercise, so we took the opportunity to photograph our favorite house:















It's hard to tell, but the entire house is edged in brick and faced in some kind of river rock. It's enormous, extending back about twice as deep as our house, and has a matching little garden shed. The only house for which I'd sell mine.

And then there was an unidentified klassy neighbor, although I do agree with the sentiment:




















Enlarge the picture. Yep, that's our neighborhood.