then how shall I begin?

So, the train thing was a dud.

Mom and I feel bad because every time we take Bug somewhere, it turns out to be a fail. (“You have Fail Mail,” Poncho kept saying on Sunday. I don’t really know what that means, but that’s Poncho for you.) There is only one place that cannot– must not!– end up a failure. I wanted to take Bug to PJ MacIntyre’s, aka home of the best homemade potato chips and shepherd’s pie ever. Maybe taking Bug just causes the unexpected to happen… Not neccessarily something bad unexpected, just something we never saw coming. (Like meeting the Mythological Rory, perhaps?) It’s physics, people.

On Monday, Bug, Poncho, and I jumped through a glorious pile of leaves! Poor Bill (who was sick– so we really did all say “Poor Bill!”) had raked them out of the front, but instead of putting them on the curb, he saved them in the backyard for us. I think he deserves hearty applause for that. The sky was perfectly blue and the leaves were bright, flaming yellow and the day was seventy degrees and we had a fab time somersaulting through, burying each other, and getting leaves permanently tangled in our hair.

Also, I have been preparing for All Saints’ Day… On Monday I started making a saint collage, which is a project I have not attempted since a very young age (and back then I became grouchy at it). Yesterday, I finally picked a saint to dress as. I can’t tell you who, seeing as it’s top secret, but I can say that I made this as my costume’s most important feature:

Yup. It’s a gold tooth on a chain.

Thank you, polymer clay and gold paint.

Wait a minute… Two posts in a row that include a picture?!?! What!?!?
Oh, what the heck.
More!

In Kentucky, looking downhill.
(Unless you’re Bug. Then you’re just looking cool.)
This picture looks like a movie still to me. An artsy coming-of-age film about… um, artsy kids coming of age? (Aaaand I’m sticking to writing novels.)
Fast forward: we’re at the beach and– Oh hey look, a random seagull!
The three of us getting splashed by the tide. Sigh!

 

 

Oh, and I must tell you who took these lovely snaps: Francis! Well, maybe Eliza took the seagull one. All I know is, it wasn’t me. I like to pretend that the reason I don’t take pictures is because I “live in the moment”, but it’s actually because I suck at taking pictures of anything other than moss and bark.

 And gold teeth, apparently.

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