This, on the left, a Sunday photo of the rain coming in. The top of her little white log house.
The first day, the first party, we spent most of it sitting in Kathy's kitchen, with the inevitable bonfire later on; the second day, we spent most of it outside, watching about eight five and six year old girls bouncing on the trampoline; I worry about that many girls getting together at once. As soon as they realize what they could have planned together, we would all have been in trouble. They were hours on that trampoline. The first day, a few pitchers of sangria I had still in my system the next afternoon. The second day, quieter. A glass or two of red wine.
sparklers by the campfire] I don't even want to think about what the Highland Games must have gone through, with that torrential rain (see? even Wikipedia says its the largest outside of Scotland). Enough that it took down one of Corey's tents; enough that it forced Kate and I into Alexandria on Sunday morning for ice cream.
There was even a car accident along the road into Maxville, two cars flown off the road, for the wet roads. Isn't August supposed to be drier than July? And why is it the Dairy Queen didn't have any coffee? Kate said I shouldn't be going to an ice cream place for coffee; when we went into the Tim Horton's, after, she suggested I ask them about their ice cream. Heh.
Neil Patrick Harris is my brand-new hero.
And Kate now enrolled in college; I'm the parent of a college student. When the hell did that happen?
[a link to the whole series of photos on facebook]
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