Thank you for not being shellfish…I said that just for the halibut.

Does your bathroom counter look like this? Ceramic Santa? Empty bottle of Listerine? Chalk? No? Huh.

Today marks the last day of Mr. Swirley’s early-30s. It’s a pretty big deal. I helped him cope with this realization by taking a two hour nap and dragging him to Patagonia, REI and back to Patagonia. I know, I am the best wife. Good thing we have equally good friends who celebrate Lee’s birth with a make-your-own burger bonanza and cake! I don’t know how I can trump tonight’s dinner on Mr. Swirley’s actual birthday – the only thing better than burgers, milkshakes and cake is Cocoa Krispies. Shhhh, don’t spoil the surprise.

Snort snort.

Uncle J, sweet Katelyn and Ms. Olive and her fuzzy legs.

Uncle J made Mr. Swirley this fancy homemade red velvet cake. Tomorrow night? A pudding cup from yours truly.
Just stop.

Friday we went to the park and visited Grandma Arden to drop off meds and dance around Oak Park Arms. She was in a super mood and only mentioned how miserable she was four times. Ellis banged on the piano and unsuccessfully tried to smash my fingers with the key cover thing.


Ho Ho and her jam band.

And on Saturday the GM and I headed up to the Good Land to celebrate the impending birth of baby Arthurs and visit with lovely Maux and her family. As expected, she raked in some sweet goods including a favorite childhood story book of hers she thought had been thrown away years ago. It’s so wonderful to see an entire (huge) family so thrilled about a new baby – but how can you not be happy when it comes to Maux and Patrick? I mean, any pregnant woman that can walk in those heels must be a bad ass.

Baby blanket courtesy of Mama Finley.

Tomorrow is Mr. Swirley’s birthday and the poor guy has to work. Don’t feel too badly for him; in two weeks he is heading to the exclusive Wisconsin Dells to hang out with his high school buddies and almost remember what it was like in their heyday wearing denim, denim and high-topped black sneakers.

Meow. Mr. Swirley circa 1996.