As I try to find new things for Em to do this summer, I hit on an activity that I did a lot as a kid. Roller skating!
Everyone skate in the opposite direction!
“Organist, Robert Ridgell plays a tribute to Michael Jackson in the postlude for the service from June 28th at Trinity Wall Street Church, Broadway, New York.”
Robert, by the way, is a native Charlottean. Gotta love an organist with a sense of whimsy. Play that funky music, white boy!
Stay up too late on the internet and you find things. This has been stuck in my head all night. I like it.
We seem to have some guests in the attic. They’re welcome to stay – there is a screen between the house and the nest.
I’ve been hearing them for a while but hadn’t been in the attic to notice them. I thought they might be in the overgrown holly bush out front. I guess I no longer have an excuse not to trim the shrubs. Darn.
When last we left our intrepid adventurers, they had come to the realization that their little friend, Flambe the bat, wanted them to go through a passage which was 30 feet underwater.
Palin: crap.
Tonight Em made up a great fairy tale called The Invisible Princess. All that could be seen of the princess were her crown and her shoes. Everybody around her had a special glass they could use to see her. But one day they thought she wasn’t there anymore, that she had vanished! But then they were able to find her again.
Quite the original story. I’d buy that book.
Am I correct in thinking that physical therapy should not leave you with bruises over the area which was “massaged?” There are more bruises, but there’s only so much purpled fishbelly-white abdomen you need to see.
It’s been 20 years since I last had any physical therapy, but this just can’t be right.
