babybloomr

Hey–here are some vacation photos that actually don’t have anything to do with shark bites! Go figure!

First, the courtyard of the carriage house we rented in Savannah. I love me some courtyards, I’m always trying to figure out how to replicate one at our house…. ok, there isn’t really a way to do that, but it’s a nice thought. I had my coffee sitting on that bench every morning, and felt all Southern and Savannah-y. Also white-trashy, because I did it in my nightgown.

Here is a picture Madi took of me reading headstones in the Colonial Park Cemetery– and YES, we went to yet another cemetery, what’s your point? These are remnants of gravestones that were damaged or displaced when Sherman’s troops occupied Savannah and camped out in the cemetery. Why exactly am I standing like that? I have no idea. Can’t explain the Toby Keith-esque hat either, except to say that I have a bit of an obsession with aversion to skin cancer so I have a tendency to cover my delicate flower of a face all summer long, regardless of the fact that wearing things jammed down on my head cuts off the circulation to my personality. At any rate, that big ol’ red backpack will certainly keep Madi from losing me in a crowd. No matter how hard she tries.

Speaking of graveyards… here is yet another photo of yet another angel statue from the Bonaventure. Seriously, if I pre-decease any of you readers, I want this statue on my eternal resting place. Or a cheap imitation knock-off, whatever– hello, I’ll be dead. And wouldn’t it be a cool idea to put some guacamole and chips in that thing she’s holding, so all of my many mourners could have a snack while they stand around and uh, mourn? (I’m ALWAYS thinking of others, I love that about me.)

And here are the girls and I eating breakfast (yippee, another courtyard!) right down the street at this little combination family-owned fruit market/plant nursery/restaurant. That ginger cat lives there and ignored us so studiously that we all ended up feeding him. Smart cat.

And lastly, a photo-representation that accurately describes my activity level since we have returned home…

The end.

You know, life is just one big learning experience, so here’s what our recent dramatic events have taught me:

You can get away with murder if you start all of your sentences with, “See, my daughter got bitten by a shark…”

That’s how I got a reeeeeally late check-out on our condo (“I’m so sorry! It’s noon and check-out time was 10:00? See, my daughter got bitten by a shark…”) And today Madi decided at the last minute that she didn’t much feel like having a tooth pulled at the orthodontist, so Russ called and cancelled (“I know we’re supposed to be there in 45 minutes, but see, Madi got bitten by a shark…”)

I’m wondering if it will work with the IRS– or the bank? The possibilities are endless!

Madi gets her stitches out tomorrow, and I think she’s starting to worry that her scar is healing a little too well. She’s figured out that as long as her wound evokes sharp intakes of breath, she’s got leverage. Stitches looking great? Not so much.

I’m gonna miss having a built-in excuse for everything. I may have to bite her on her other leg.