A wild rumpus

 ...aptly, in the rumpus room. The mess of Pocky wrappers, dunkers crumbs, juice boxes, and karaoke poses attests to a good time.

In the afternoon, we ended up at the UAW picket line where K's dad was, and joined them for a while. Earlier, when I texted him about bringing the kids there, C said that since a tentative agreement had been reached, this week was about thanking the community for their support. "You'll get to see the best in us," he said. I almost cried a puddle-full right then and there.



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Birthday reprise (now with sleepover)

Happy Birthday NuNu!!

#Dada's 'tupcakes"

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Almost there

But things get in the way.

The ultrasound is a whole week away, so I've been trying not to think so much about it. But once in a while, I'll feel it in the shower or something and realize that I'd been hoping it would (magically) go away.

But, obviously, it hasn't.






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For a few moments...

yesterday, after the concert, it was lovely to have At nestled into a corner of the kitchen, flanked by columns of pictures of earlier Ats.

And then it was time for him to drive back to college...

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At the end of the day:

Black Violin

with these guys--

The music was invigorating

(also the walk to the Wharton as it's 40 and super windy!) 

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Meanwhile, while we're still in the garage...

I have yet to start the car to take At back to college, but the ping of Big A's pic to family chat shows that the babies already miss their oldest sib.


The heart knows what it knows.






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Another day, another new view...

Walking to work gives me a lot of time to finesse class as I walk to it, and lots of time on the way back for wayward thoughts.

Such as if I didn't have long hair or breasts, I might run more frequently and further.

Part of this was because I was headed to the radiology office after class to schedule the damn
ultrasound that the family practice ordered. But it's still weird to fake myself into thinking of cancer as a fitness motivator.

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