Friday night was a charity "Ruby Ball" and we didn't get to bed until 2:30. Here we are all
I was looking at my pose in that photo, and remembered a photo I came across the other day of a trip to the Nutcracker from several years ago. Notice Grace's pose. Like mother like daughter. Red patent shoes should be noticed, dammit.
Today I let Jack have my hour when Vagana (the 'g' is a hard 'g', fortunately) arrived to do our massages and the girls and I headed out to a fair to do a little shopping for gifts to take back home next month. We came home with no gifts, but we were all sporting some lovely new jewelry for ourselves.
Treat. Yo. Self.
We came home to find this set up in the backyard:
That's right. We're getting ready for a big camping trip next weekend. Considering that my idea of camping is staying in a hotel that doesn't have room service, my camping list probably won't surprise you:
This little doll won't be going with us, but now that his eyebrows are growing back in, I thought I'd show you how he's getting cute again:
I'm pretty freaked out about camping in a Brazilian jungle, but I'm told there are showers and whatnot, and it's supposedly a real campground, so we'll see. What you may not know about me is that I'm a disaster magnet. The other night I was at a friend's house and we ran out of firewood for the little firepit, so some ladies were pulling dead branches out of the palm trees to burn. They got all they could reach and asked me to get some since I'm the tallest. "No," I warned them, "Nothing good will come of that. It'll end in tears." Well, they cajoled me and I pulled out a branch. A giant bug fell on me, but I shook it out of my hair and was fine. They cajoled again. "Pull really hard and get a big one!" they encouraged. So I did. I got a huge dead palm leaf and dragged it over to the fire. I leaned over to pick up a big chunk of it (it was very dark out), and I noticed that the chunk was swarming. I had pulled down a huge wasps' nest. There was screaming and running and a brave lady who speared the nest and dropped it into the fire, saving all our lives. The next day, the girls came home from school (I hadn't told them about the bees) and were all, "MOM! Is it true that you pulled a bees' nest out of a tree with your bare hands? Everyone was talking about it at school!" The moral of this story, children, is don't rely on me to save you if the ship's going down, because it's probably sinking from something I did. But generally with the best of intentions.
So, stay tuned for tales of our camping adventures. Meanwhile, I grilled a pizza tonight. It didn't suck. Well, the first two did, but the third time was a charm: