Well, I'm back. And, actually, thanks to the miracle of my cell phone camera, I have pictorial proof that I haven't been just sitting on my patoot doing nothing. Sort of.
1. Well, there was this move. . .
In an impressive burst of karmic irony, Number One Son, the Miz and the Most Adorable Grandchild in the World moved to Bermtopia, our former domicile, at the end of May. We helped. Imagine cleaning and closing up a 2-bedroom apartment in Everett, packing, driving across the glorious state of Washington and unpacking over a three-day period. Yup, that was us.
And did I mention, the MAGITW perfected crawling that weekend, thereby requiring the one-on-one attention of at least one adult at all times? I am now qualified for a career as a Secret Service agent.
|Grandma, you forgot to mention I'm pulling myself up, too.|
By taking in a Nellie McKay concert over in PDX's Alberta Arts district. . .
And rolling over to the coast a couple of times. (Okay, okay: technically not cultural. Does it count that we watched "American Ninja Warrior" one night?)
|Greetings from The Place of Noisy Water.|
I still refuse to get my paws wet.
|It's a start, people. It's a start.|
Number Two Son and I took on Chicago, ostensibly to attend a wedding but mostly we just geeked out on the architecture, Jamaican jerk chicken, the Art Institute, River Walk, Millenium and Grant Parks, Lincoln Park Zoo, gangster tours and miniature golf. Not necessarily in that order.
And there this little junket to Sin City with our Vegas travel buddies, the Poop Heads.
|Check it out! |
If Joe Biden's presidential bid peters out, he can always fall back on that side job!
6. Oh, there was that record-setting heat wave that pestered all of the Northwest most of July.
|Fat calves and Hobbit feet! Yay me.|
|Homemade sangria helped.|
I am tired of being a wanker. I am back in the blogging saddle. Next stop -- Astoria, Ore., via the backroads. Providing the back roads are not too back-roady.