Victims

This poem was inspired by the tragic events on September 27, 2006, when Emily Keyes was murdered and five other girls were held hostage and molested at a high school in Bailey, Colorado. This poem is dedicated to those children – and acknowledges that the survivors are also victims of this tragedy.

Victims

Dark ripples spread –
fraternal twins, hatch
from the tragic bones.

I see the Dove,
stirring,
in the froth and foam.
I pray,
Society suckles the Survivor –
the lily white face,
of injured Innocence.

Pay no heed
to Her dark sibling,
boiling rage.
Featherless survivor,
clad in Pain, eyes silver and flat.
There is no reflection
in that gaze. Save of
old bones and dried up feathers.

Choose
to pull the Dove from
the stench
of sundered Life. Slip your hand,
into the slick place
where Creation itself,
pulses, warm and wet.

Cradle Her
damaged, fluttering –
heart in your hand.

Her wings will grow strong,
blood and bone knit,
and with a breath of wind,
she will fly – unhampered,

through cold November skies.

********
Standard news regarding The Wild Animal Sanctuary: For those who have not heard, Colorado has an awesome wildlife refuge that rescues wolves, bears, tigers, lions, and various other exotic animals from private owners who are unable to properly care for them. After 27 years of service, they are being forced to close their doors due to lack of funding. PLEASE BE A PART OF THE FIGHT TO SAVE THESE BEAUTIFUL ANIMALS!!! If only 7,500 people a year donated $1,000 - the Sanctuary could survive. The Sanctuary may not find a millionaire - but they can find a million people, each with a dollar.

"Sewing Project" or "Prayer of an Anorexic"

I find the imperfection lies;
not in the piece, but in my eyes.

Free Graphic Novel Idea

I have a great idea for a graphic novel - but neither the artistic ability nor the interest to pursue it to completion - so I hereby post my orphaned thought for anyone who would like to see it become a reality.

The series would be called "Apocolyptic Doll" and would be a conglomeration of short stories all featuring the travels (Lone Wolf style) of an inanimate doll in a post-apocolyptic world. While the doll would have no "personality" of its own, I think it could function as a mirror, amplifying and/or commenting on the threads of the graphic story.

Much can be learned about someone by the way they treat the world around them.

Hmmmmm . . . .

********
Standard news regarding The Wild Animal Sanctuary: For those who have not heard, Colorado has an awesome wildlife refuge that rescues wolves, bears, tigers, lions, and various other exotic animals from private owners who are unable to properly care for them. After 27 years of service, they are being forced to close their doors due to lack of funding. PLEASE BE A PART OF THE FIGHT TO SAVE THESE BEAUTIFUL ANIMALS!!! If only 7,500 people a year donated $1,000 - the Sanctuary could survive. The Sanctuary may not find a millionaire - but they can find a million people, each with a dollar.

Sexuality of an Aspen

Since I haven't figured out free form spacing in html, this poem loses some of its impact . . . but here goes.

Sexuality of an Aspen

Her eyes were
charcoal gray, smudges
against alabaster
white.
Her head Crowned,
by glittering
golden jewels.

When the wind blew,
the forest sighed
to see the Grace -
with which she danced.

She gathered the sunlight
in her arms.

Dog Fixed . . . Other Car Broke

The dog has been fixed. Apparently my joke that she was eating hallucinogenic mushrooms out of the backyard may have been appropo . . . The actual culprit turned out to be snapdragons. In a last ditch effort to cure her symptoms, I decided to weed the backyard - on the off chance that she was eating a toxic weed. Low and behold - of approximately 24 snapdragon plants I had planted, three remained - and the rest were short green sticks with chew marks. Ever since the removal of the weeds (and remaining snapdragons), Tika has been improving steadily.

And as soon as the dog was fixed, T.'s car died . . . He handed the mechanic a credit card and told him that as long as the repairs were under $800 to go ahead and fix it. Ummm . . . it was fixable - for $717.44, though the mechanic is refusing to warranty the work since we won't replace the driveshafts in addition to the transfer case. After all, the driveshafts are only an additional $3,200.00.

Sigh.

Popcorn Fight

Because, sometimes you just have to cut loose and make a mess.








Even Callie (my little black tortie cat) had to come and investigate the mess. If you look closely next to the plastic bin, you'll see her sporting a look I call "deer caught in headlights."

A. had the last word, taking swift and total revenge . . .

And It Clicked . . .

I spent an absolutely wonderful day playing at The Denver Doll Emporium with a few friends, and by exercising an extreme amount of self-control (and leaving my purse locked in the car) managed not to buy anything.

While a very sad and sweet OrientDoll (Joong Choo model) caught my eye and was very agreeable to play with, I still didn't feel that she was the right doll for me (and yes, before you ask, my husband officially thinks I'm crazy).

Then, a few hours later, it clicked. Bits and pieces (literally - boxes of eyes, disembodied heads, wigs, etc.) finally came together - and she was suddenly *there* inside my head, hair slightly windblown and smelling of the first frost; hazel eyes glittering in the September sun.

I want this doll to serve as a kick-start for my muse. I want her to inspire poetry and story ideas. I could already see the beginning of her story . . .

"My adoptive mother was certain she wanted someone refined and cultured to model for her poetry blog. She was looking for a doll with Asian features: long black hair and emerald green eyes, but she brought me home instead."

However (just to reassure those of you who worry about my finances), I am content to wait until closer to Christmas to make my actual purchase. I may have to secure the outfit in advance - since I would be heartbroken if I finally got my doll and the clothing I liked was out of stock.

Thank you again PoN for introducing me to your wonderful little doll Miranda. I agree - people don't play enough anymore. I think we need to fix that.

Great Googly-Moogly!

Thanks to the power of Google, I have now learned that almost every weed growing in my backyard is toxic. So are the snapdragons. My new battle cry is "Death to the wild geraniums!" Great googly-moogly! I've been weeding TREES out there.

On the bright side, I think I finally know what is wrong with the dog . . .

Poetry

Poetry is a talent.
Poetry is a curse.
To drop each word in line (or rhyme),
in free form; or in verse.

Is this how our Maker felt,
when first He planned and planted flowers;
slipped intricate, divine designs
within the raindrops in a shower?

Lessons From The Honey Bee

I.

The Bee is in the Garden,
humming softly in the flowers,
his baskets filled with pollen -
gathered grain by grain, for hours.

I have watched him as he bumbles,
through the sun and through the shade.
While he takes a sip of nectar,
I take a sip of lemonade.

I find the thought quite striking -
though He harvests what he needs,
you'll find no trace of his gentle passing -
or the planting of his seeds.

II.

A Bee can mean Prosperity -
hard work, rewarded by gain.
But, if you scream and shout at him -
a Bee can signify great Pain.

Trip to McDonalds

Perhaps someday my child will learn not to be afraid of small, enclosed, gerbil tunnels . . .

The Devil Wears Prada

I must say, I am very disappointed in this book. It had such promise - and then failed to deliver in the end. Not only is the main love-triangle (which sets up a tension for 3/4 of the book) not resolved . . . there is absolutely no character growth. Not the main character. Not her boss. Not her friends or family or boyfriend. I could at least excuse the lack of growth if the main character had made an impact in her fictional world - but no . . . once again, impact is completely lacking. While I agree with many of the main themes (in particular, the ideas that degradation is insidious, gradual, and ultimately requires that you allow a person power over you), ultimately the themes are left as mixed messages. At the end of the novel, it is not the main character, nor her friends, nor her success in life that decides her worth. It is a doorman at the place where she worked.

I could poke a few holes in the basic story (particularly in the fact that she was "accepted" into a world of models that wear size 2 or less clothing - and yet she eats nothing except fatty hamburgers, regular soda, donuts, etc. - and still manages to remain an attractive size 6), but really, I think it best to keep my review short and sweet.

Such potential. Such disappointment.

Still, I have high hopes for the movie. Particularly if they use a little "creative license" for the ending. It would have been an absolutely brilliant book - had the author paid slightly more attention to the details - and closed her story threads with as much time and care as she took in describing the designer clothes, purses, and other props used in the novel.

Hmmmm . . . I wonder if we'll see "knock-offs" of this book. Maybe "The Source of Temptation wears Walmart-Brand Clothes."

********
Standard news regarding The Wild Animal Sanctuary: For those who have not heard, Colorado has an awesome wildlife refuge that rescues wolves, bears, tigers, lions, and various other exotic animals from private owners who are unable to properly care for them. After 27 years of service, they are being forced to close their doors due to lack of funding. PLEASE BE A PART OF THE FIGHT TO SAVE THESE BEAUTIFUL ANIMALS!!! If only 7,500 people a year donated $1,000 - the Sanctuary could survive. The Sanctuary may not find a millionaire - but they can find a million people, each with a dollar.

Yee Haw

Now that I've steam cleaned my carpet TWICE . . . grrrrrrr . . . it really doesn't look any better. Unfortunately, my house is "carpeted" with the same thin layer of grayish/brown thread that graces the hallways of every highschool I have ever visited. It is drab. It is functional. It is non-descrepit and has no padding (after all, if it was ugly but comfortable, that would have at least been SOMETHING).

But it is clean. Sparkly clean. Except for a few spots I need to hit with industrial strength cleaner. There is something inherently wrong with a product meant to remove three years of accumulated dirt advertising that it is "gentle on your hands."

My new cleaning mantra includes something about installing hardwood floors and dark green carpet (which the dog may or may not be allowed to EVER set foot on).

On another note . . . A. officially broke the rule that only one person is allowed to be ill in my household at any one time. He gleefully shared his germs with mommy (good thing I love my little petrie dish), and I have been hacking and snorting with the best of them - I imagine I audibly resemble a high-strung filly dancing on a rattlesnake.

As the Universe loves to torment me . . . T. had to fulfill his obligation as a groomsman in one of our good friend's wedding this weekend - so T. left Saturday afternoon to attend the rehearsal dinner and other pre-festivity preparations. Which meant I came down with this hideous cold Saturday evening. I managed to get A. in bed . . . and then the dog woke me every two hours . . . a marathon event that culminated when I discovered Ms. Tika had been unable (yet again) to control her bodily functions, and left me desperately cleaning my carpets at 2:45 a.m. (after discovering we were completely out of paper towels, of course). Kleenix just doesn't have the proper absorbancy for some jobs.

I finally shoved the dog outside at 5:45 a.m. - only to have A. wake me at 6:30 a.m., as usual. I was able to grab an extra two hours of sleep by pouring him a bowl of cereal and drowsing on the couch while he watched Lilo and Stitch for the seven hundred and nineteenth time this week. (But really, who keeps counting after the four hundred and twenty second time?) Then it was time to call in a good friend (THANK YOU S.!!!) to watch A. while I dragged my butt off the couch and 1) steam cleaned the rugs; 2) wiped out the kennel; and 3) took a hot shower in order to feel vaguely humanoid before 4) going to the wedding.

On the bright side, I feel much better now - even though I'm still croaking like a frog. A.'s nose is still running like a faucet - and T. began sneezing and coughing yesterday - so aside from the cats, it is safe to say my family is currently a walking plague.

Yee haw.

Midnight Cleaning

Apparently Ms. Tika's stomach is still a little upset . . . which led to me steamcleaning my carpet from 9:00 p.m. until 11:00 p.m. Boy, howdy, do my neighbors love me. On the bright side, my carpet is looking better than it has since we moved in. I was planning on a full house scrub and clean shortly - but I guess fate felt I needed a little prompting (and the dog is now confined to the kitchen - bleh).

So, where does this leave me? Car is fixed. Dog is semi-fixed. Child is beginning to sneeze explosively and develop cough. Sigh.

I would blog more - but I didn't expect to be deep cleaning my livingroom - so I think I'll be taking off to bed instead.

Goodnight sweet puppy,
I sure hope you sleep,
instead of coating my kitchen,
in crud three-feet deep.
So far I've mopped all the floors,
bathed the dog; cleaned the rug.
Tucked my child in bed,
his blue blankets snug.
All I can say, my sweet puppy,
is if you wake me at 2:00 -
I'm making no promises
as to what I will do.

Car Fixed, Dog Broke

My car is fixed - but apparently my poochie is broken. To reassure everyone, I have taken her to the vet and she has been given a clean bill of health for now - but you tell me if this seems a little odd . . .


I was giving her a bath last night, after which I noticed something a little odd with her eyes . . .

Needless to say, I immediately called my vet, who declared this was not an emergency, but said I should check on her first thing in the morning, and if her eyes were still not dilating properly, then I should go ahead and bring her in.


The next morning, her eyes had fully recovered . . . but her right ear was malfunctioning.

I took her to the vet, who explained that the most likely culprit was a deep ear infection - and since the nerve that controls eye function and the nerve that controls ear function are close together, it is not uncommon to see eye/ear problems in dogs. He then carefully checked her ears - which were perfectly clean, not red, not wet, not infected, not swollen, and generally very healthy ears.

Puzzled, the vet and his tech put Tika through a range of reflex tests, which included repeatedly dropping a cottonball on her head. All reflexes (and nerves) were normal.

Since she has been throwing up (as an additional symptom), the vet gave me some pills to help settle her stomach and sent her home with instructions for "further observation." It would make sense that if her perception and equilibrium have been off, she may be throwing up because she feels like a very drunk human. (Right now she is galavanting around the house, eyes and ears normal - go figure.)

So this leads to one of two conclusions. Either my dog randomly blew a circuit, or she has been eating hallucinogenic mushrooms. Guess I should weed more often . . .

********
Standard news regarding The Wild Animal Sanctuary: For those who have not heard, Colorado has an awesome wildlife refuge that rescues wolves, bears, tigers, lions, and various other exotic animals from private owners who are unable to properly care for them. After 27 years of service, they are being forced to close their doors due to lack of funding. PLEASE BE A PART OF THE FIGHT TO SAVE THESE BEAUTIFUL ANIMALS!!! If only 7,500 people a year donated $1,000 - the Sanctuary could survive. The Sanctuary may not find a millionaire - but they can find a million people, each with a dollar.

Odds and Ends

This is going to be a very disjointed post . . .

Getting back in the saddle regarding the upcoming NanoWriMo event . . . I have one more character and I will be done with character sketches (give me a break - I have TWELVE main characters). I'm not sure if this will be a single novel or a trilogy, but time will tell. Completing the last sketch will mean that I get to move on to step two - setting sketches.

My employer turned down a matching donation for The Wildlife Sanctuary claiming (as we knew they would) that this would "set a precedent" (of what? doing good deeds and helping people?) and since it offered little to no visibility or potential business development for the firm, they were not interested. However, my firm is very politcally active (both Democrat and Republican). Since I'm of the opinion we should save the tigers and shoot the politicians - my hard-earned tax dollars will continue to go the Sanctuary instead of the next political campaign.

By the way - the best way to show continued support for the Sanctuary is to commit to a long-term donation. They have "adopt an animal" programs at the $10/month, $20/month, or $30/month levels. You get a newsletter about "your" animal, and they have the option to have the donation deducted directly from your paycheck. I don't know if the Sanctuary received enough donations to stay open . . . but the more folks who show they are willing to commit to long-term support - the better the chances the Sanctuary will open again! This will also prevent the problem they had last year - a flood of donations when folks heard they were in trouble - that dwindled to nothing as "out of sight, out of mind" kicked in.

And finally . . . right when the 'Roo breaks down and I really have no money, I think I'm becoming obsessed with eventually owning a ball-jointed doll (retail $300-$2,000). No one ever said I had poor taste . . . ::sigh:: (But they are BEAUTIFUL. Really and truly BEAUTIFUL.

On the upside, T. may have a new (higher paying) job soon. Oh please oh please oh please oh please.

Enough random thoughts and tying up of loose ends. It's time to tie up something in the other room (my mind of course!) and catch some sleep. Have a great night all.

********
Standard news regarding The Wild Animal Sanctuary: For those who have not heard, Colorado has an awesome wildlife refuge that rescues wolves, bears, tigers, lions, and various other exotic animals from private owners who are unable to properly care for them. After 27 years of service, they are being forced to close their doors due to lack of funding. PLEASE BE A PART OF THE FIGHT TO SAVE THESE BEAUTIFUL ANIMALS!!! If only 7,500 people a year donated $1,000 - the Sanctuary could survive. The Sanctuary may not find a millionaire - but they can find a million people, each with a dollar.

Huh?

I'm not sure I agree with this one . . .

You Are Cookie Monster

Misunderstood as a primal monster, you're a true hedonist with a huge sweet tooth. You are usually feeling: Hungry. Cookies are preferred, but you'll eat anything if cookies aren't around. You are famous for: Your slightly crazy eyes and usual way of speaking How you life your life: In the moment. "Me want COOKIE!"

The Sesame Street Personality Quiz

For Whom the Bell Tolls

At long last, the time has come to say farewell to my beloved '92 Subaru Legacy. I have been driving this car since my senior year in highschool - so to say I have an emotional attachment is a slight understatement. I LOVE my Roo. She has always limped to the location I needed her to get to . . . even with the equivalent of a broken front leg. When her clutch gave out, we coasted into a conveniently close Firestone. After work one evening, when the stickshift literally came off (leaving me only a 1/2 inch piece of metal buried deep in the plastic accordian material with which to shift), I drove her home. Just this Friday, she limped over 20 miles while the bolt and bracket holding her timing belt broke (awful knocking noise . . . let me tell you).

And now the bell is tolling.

While I love my Roo, she has grown old, and every 4-6 months, she needs another $600-$800 in repairs. (This bolt/bracket fix was $200 just to tear the engine apart and FIND the problem - which is a special order part and another $400 to repair.) I have ponied up the cash for this final fix - but it is just that, a final fix. In the meantime, I will be saving a down payment and searching for her replacement. I'm thinking Volkswagon Jetta - so let me know if you see any Jettas in need of a loving home.

But I'm going to miss my Roo. Even though the cars have grown sleeker and more powerful, I still remember when she pulled away from a light smooth as a river of molasses, engine quiet as a whisper as she accelerated. I am the only person who knows exactly how to place her parking brake to prevent her rolling backwards (much to my husband's chagrin). When her calipers needed to be replaced two years ago, I was the first to feel the tremors and hear the vibrations. It took another two weeks before the noise was loud enough for the Firestone personnel to hear and pinpoint the problem.

Ah, my Roo . . .

But, I think she is ready to go. Winter is approaching (always hard on her engine - one of the belts makes a horrendous screeching/chunking noise on cold days until the engine warms up). Her lights have dimmed (or, more likely, they are installing more powerful headlights in the newer vehicles) - either way, I can't see very well when I drive at night. Tiny bits and pieces have begun to come loose and disappear. I'm still looking for the triangular piece of plastic that belongs to the dashboard. Oh - and when it rains, the entire car fogs up because the seals on the windows are giving out. And when I turn on the AC, there is a slight smell of mold that comes from a time when I floated her across a flooded intersection during a massive rainstorm/flood. We made it across safely, but her brakes were wet - I almost didn't come to a stop at the next light. :P :P :P

So many memories.

"Looking for reliable vehicle to help carry 2 year old son to daycare. Must be gentle, hard-working, and low maintenance. Slight blemishes or unsightly bumpers acceptable. Bronco stickers on rear bumper may bring up painful memories and cause buyer to cry shamelessly. High mileage will be ignored in favor of quality of service. Arrangements can be made for new tires, window tinting, and ever-sexy addition of baby car-seat."

********
Standard news regarding The Wild Animal Sanctuary: For those who have not heard, Colorado has an awesome wildlife refuge that rescues wolves, bears, tigers, lions, and various other exotic animals from private owners who are unable to properly care for them. After 27 years of service, they are being forced to close their doors due to lack of funding. PLEASE BE A PART OF THE FIGHT TO SAVE THESE BEAUTIFUL ANIMALS!!! If only 7,500 people a year donated $1,000 - the Sanctuary could survive. The Sanctuary may not find a millionaire - but they can find a million people, each with a dollar.

The Birds and the Bees

Why do people freak out when they see a bee? I will admit that bright colors (like yellow and black) are Nature's way of saying "do not eat" . . . but unless you were planning on grabbing the next pollen-gatherer you see and ramming it into your mouth, there shouldn't be a conflict of interest.

Aside from killer bees, which I acknowledge as an exception to the rule, most bees will not sting unprovoked. (And yes, wildly slapping at a bee and yelling "go away" counts as "provoking" it.) In fact, most bees will die after stinging a person once - the stinger keeps vital parts of bee anatomy attached, which is most inconvenient for the bee and reduces its life expectancy to somewhere in the vicinity of ten minutes.

Disclaimer: I make no promises about bee behavior if you are threatening the Queen Bee. That's the wild equivalent of a "Your Mama" joke.

Yet people fly into hysterics at the first sight of a small yellow and black creature, the size of a quarter. I have let bees land on me and explore, and I have NEVER been stung (okay - a wasp got me once - but I sat on it, which qualified as "crushing it to death" which qualified as a "provoked" attack). I like bees. They like me. I think it has something to do with my being a quiet person who doesn't immediately try and hit them with cold water from a garden hose.

Having said all that, one of my fondest memories is of a time during my college years, when I was reading a book in the middle of a warm grassy spot, my back pressed against a tree and a cold Mountain Dew on the ground beside me (life doesn't get much better than that - good weather, a good book, and a can of jet fuel) when out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of a bee lazily flying in circles, following a trail of scent which apparently led to my Mountain Dew can. I watched the bee land on the silver rim, and then refocused on the book, reading the next paragraph or two.

When I looked back at the Mountain Dew can, the bee was gone.

Which, of course, meant one of two things. Either the bee flew away, or . . . with a resigned sigh, I turned the Mountain Dew over and watched the yellowish fluid pour onto the grass (scientific experiment: how does grass respond to caffeine - this should be the next 20/20 special). I was down to the final dregs (and thinking I had wasted a perfectly good Mountain Dew) when I heard a sodden "clunk" - and Mr. Bee fell out of the can and onto the grass.

Bees are fuzzy. Up close, you can really see their "fur" - and when they are covered from head to foot in Mountain Dew - they get miniature spikes. If Mr. Bee had been human, he would have been stiffly holding his hands away from his sides and saying things like "ugh" (kid friendly version, of course!). As it was, Mr. Bee crawled back on top of the Mountain Dew can - trusting soul, and proceeded to clean himself, cat-like, storing bits of the sugar in the baskets on the back of his legs. I spent a fascinating half-hour watching him run his little legs over his fur, until he was once again fluffy - and his wings no longer stuck together. Wing function is apparently VERY important to flying. How do bees fly anyway? Aerodynamically impossible critters . . . .

The book lay forgotten, open on the grass.

Maybe it's a pact I have with bees - that they won't harm me if I don't harm them. All I know is the half-hour I spent watching the bee give himself a spit bath qualifies as one of my top learning experiences at college - and probably qualifies above certain classes - like "Chaucer."

What else can I say? Nature is good. Yay! Nature is good.

Visit to the Sanctuary

Let me describe the journey to The Wild Animal Sanctuary.

First you pass the small town of Hudson - which is obviously a farming community. Paved roads give way to dirt roads . . . and before long, you are traveling by farm houses - one of which has the charming sign "Live Chickens $5." After the field of chickens comes a field of cows, then a field of goats, a field of llamas - and then a field of tigers. And just as your mind begins to comprehend what it just saw . . . you may come across two horses grazing . . . next to a camel (whether the camel belongs to the Sanctuary or to the farmer next door is hard to say).

I wonder what the farming folk thought about the Sanctuary when it was established 27 years ago. Somewhere between rows of corn and a field of llamas and cows this strange feller let a bunch of 500 pound cats loose. When the sun comes up, it's hard to be sure if your alarm clock is the "cock-a-doodle-do" of a farmyard rooster - or the black leopard's piercing chirp.

A. absolutely loved the Sanctuary, and ran from enclosure to enclosure:

"Mommy, what that?"
"A tiger."
"Mommy, what that?"
"Another tiger."
"Mommy, what that?"
"Honey, for the 29th time, it's a tiger." (The Sanctuary has 75 of them.)

We spent a few minutes watching one of the volunteers fill a tiger swimming pool with fresh water. Three tigers were playing in the enclosure, all of them doing their best to be kitty-sponges and soak up all the spray. The volunteer kept moving, trying to direct the spray into the tub - but more often than not, she found the way blocked by a giant feline. Then one of the tigers crept to a higher perch . . . and SPLOOSH! 500 pounds of muscle sent water flying every direction. The volunteer leaped out of the way. The onlookers laughed - and the volunteer shouted up to us: "You've got to have good reflexes to volunteer here!" Not that it helped. She was still soaked.

I sat down to watch a video of "Eddy" the black-panther while T. took A. outside to see the lions - or more accurately, while T. proceeded to chase A. up and down the ramps and make sure A. didn't accidentally drop his hat in one of the tiger pens. As the video started, three or four other people sat down in the chairs around me. It wasn't long before I heard the "patter-patter-patter" of little feet - and A. rounded the corner and ran in front of the television. He immediately stopped, his little form bisecting the screen, and smiled like a goober.
"Oh my God, is he CUTE," the lady next to me said.
"Thanks. That one belongs to me," I replied. "And let me get him out of your way."

All in all, it was a very successful Labor Day Weekend. Good friends, good family, good fun. Though A. was slightly confused as to why there were no zebras . . .