Cin and I spent the evening babysitting our 4 year old cousin, who was probably overwhelmed as we sang along to old vinyl records from our childhood. 'The Lord told Noah, there's gonna be a floody floody...' I also got a sweet unintended compliment when Panda thought I was 12. She knew I was old, but she doesn't quite have the *scale* of age! So yeah...I was looking much like the other tweeners of today with my spiky pigtails and Choose Carbs tshirt and my lowrider pants and crazy lipgloss action. Yay, me. Too bad I had to add back those extra 15 years when I got ready for work today... The rest of the home trip was awesome as well. Went to the Fair and ate the requisite food items, saw adorable rabbits (I want a Netherland Dwarf or a Dwarf Hotot)(oh goodness, check out Donald Trump's hairpiece(on the left)) and llamas (ruined by David Spade's The Emperor's New Groove) and sheep (so hot and tired and therefore nice to us) and chickens (dude, those are *huge* and I would definately run away if I was being chased) and cows (mooooooo, munchmunchmuch, mooooo) and goats (angry belligerant things at 8:30a) and funny pigs (who are another hot and tired animal by 2p in an Illinois summer) and some of the fattest white trash this side of Chicago. I'm sorry but there are some people who have never met a funnel cake that didn't agree with them...and they're walking around in sports bras and stonewashed denim that hugs every curve and dimpled thigh. I almost had to stop eating my chipwich--ice cream and cookies make you fat--but I persevered. It's The Fair!
In other news, there are now RVs and trailers that come with their own garage-like area where one might store a motorcycle or golf cart for transportation around the campground of choice.

All for $14,000. Quite a bargain, when you think about it.

Saturday was my grandparent's anniversary--they've been married 61 years. SIXTY-ONE. Lest you fail to appreciate the length of time and commitment: it took 61 years to build the Cathedral Tower in Utrecht, which is the tallest church tower in the Netherlands. My grandparents built something larger and more-lasting than a Gothic Dutch tower; they built a close-knit family that has never doubted their commitment to each other and the family. I'm very lucky to have them as grandparents, and to still have them as mobile and lucid as they were 10 years ago. I love you both.

Sunday, I watched my dad finish the siding on the chimney while my mom hacked off the siding on the second story of the house--all from the safety and comfort of the shaded lawn. What?! I don't have a lawn. I have to appreciate it while I can. I returned to the city with some geraniums from my Momma's garden, and I'm really doing them a favor since she's going to decimate the entire garden and start over. However, I can't promise them a long and comfortable life (or really, anything past Friday) so we'll see if it's really a favor or not.

Last night, I anxiously awaited a roomate's return--I had to lug 38 kgs of wood out of my trunk, and there's no way I could do it myself. Finally Charlie appeared, and we flip-flopped our way across the street and up the stairs in an awkward lumbering gait. Then the fun *really* began as I attempted to put a media stand together, complete with allen wrench.

I would like to know who thought the allen wrench method of construction would be fun. Because I would invite them over to wrench these screws into their 'predrilled' holes and watch him fight with the wood, with the allen wrench, with the screws, with everything. I probably shouldn't have started the project at 10:30p with a raging headache, but knowing that it was a mess on my floor would have made today unbearable.

Six of one, half-dozen of the other...