Mmmm camera

That would be TEN POINT ONE megapixels. Yahoo. Now I just need to learn how to use it....

The Last Temptation of Fate

What I would like to avoid - but absolutely cannot - is mentioning that this picture was taken less than a week after Scott fell off the roof and busted his head. Oy.

The Kidd Shoots Again

Erin loooooves the camera. It's really too bad that it only holds something like 50 pictures; even that much memory only seems to last her about 20 seconds. A little abstract nature photography, a la The Kidd.

She does portraits, too!

This is Erin's friend Tori, who is stunning; Erin surprised her, took the picture, then took a picture of the computer screen where it was displayed. I thought it very clever.

Slap on the wrist!

I apologize for being so shockingly remiss in keeping up the blog - it's not like I have anything else to do...ahem. Updates: Scott's staples are out and his head looks as good as before (read: lumpy and balding, but still very handsome); Erin has a new computer which she received for her 11th - whoa - birthday. We tried to tell her that the birthday people couldn't fit it in, but she found a way around the bureaucracy and reinstated it. And so, 11. I'm taking a philosophy class, and if the Cogito (I think, therefore I am) is true, then I have ceased to exist. The house - oh, the house - is a very very very fine house. With grout in the tile, and doors sort of up, and baseboard heaters sort of in, and cabinets... still in the garage. We'll move in someday.

There will be more pictures, I promise, when I can figure out the settings on my new camera.

Spring

Okay, so it's spring at our house and Scott has once again set the bar for birthdays next year. Ooooooh, new camera rocks. It goes beyond rocking. It's way prettier than Bowie. And for those of you who have not been to the blog for a while, the head trauma photo is not for the faint of heart. I think I made Ericka puke...

Photobugs

Erin and I ran around the yard taking pictures this evening. Once we were both done with our homework. Or at least when I was done with my homework. I'm not sure they give you homework in the fifth grade. Doesn't seem quite fair.

Red.

Mmm, head trauma.

Scott decided today to take a flying leap off of his ladder. As you can see, it didn't work out so well for him. The paramedics were lovely, Arne Taylor (our neighbor) is my new hero, and Scott has no problems other than some serious soreness and of course this big giant gash on the top of his head. Oh yeah, and no skin on his arm..... I was totally disappointed that they didn't have to shave his head (I was so flustered by the time I got to the ER to meet Jim and Carole that the only question that I asked the nurse was "Did you shave his head?" Not "Is he okay?", not "Is he off the backboard yet?".... I'm not sure if he thought I was totally callous or just without any sense of propriety. Oh well). They also had to cut his shirt off, so they sent him home with some hot hot hot purple Pathways scrubs. (For those of you not in the know, Pathways is the local detox/rehab center. I wanted to parade him around town, but apparently he wanted to go home and take a shower. Harumph.) But he is well, showering as we speak, and everything will be okay. Thanks to everybody who offered their help, we love you all!

Ah, thirty four.

It's the end of April and time for the annual convergence of the Moseley-Schenck-Lefcourt households in celebration of Scott's birthday. Much fun was had by all, especially Erin, who had already attended a birthday party and was hopped up on soda and cotton candy and cake and will not be allowed sugar of any kind for at least a month. Scott got a new pair of shorts, a six-pack, a Crock-Pot, a gift certificate which will probably be used on more shorts, and a GPS (and Will, I promise they make them better now). All good things.

Simma, of course, went straight for the beer. Little lush.

The Agony and the Ecstasy

Okay, so it's not quite the Sistine Chapel, but we did paint our ceilings today. Scott got rather significantly messier than I did, since he was the master of the paint sprayer, while I was just the lowly backroller. Sprayer or no sprayer, though, painting isn't very fun. Building your own house certainly teaches you to be grateful for your own cozy job that doesn't involve painting or drywall mud or PVC cement or pulling wire or lifting asphalt shingles on a daily basis. Aaaah, slinging wood.

The Old Man and the Yard

Will's fame will come posthumously when critics discover the text of his spare but touchingly human novel about hooking of a particularly giant and vicious bunny and being hauled around his unforgiving backyard for several days on end. And with that fame will come public knowledge of all the fistfights in Sicily and drunken revelry in Cuba. I'm sure of it.

Grandma Beth and Grandpa Will need second jobs

Mom has taking to spending her every other week off trolling for bunnies.

Will is a little more drastic in his bunny-luring attempts. This here Barney Loves You fishing pole has been rigged with 8# test line and the new hotness in bunny jigs: The Flashy Carrot. Both methods have apparently met with great success.

I'm with a T!

Scott and I went to see Miss Makita tonight. Granted, the sole purpose of our outing was not to see Miss Makita, but she happened to be the center ring in the circus that is the Contractor's BBQ. While I was standing in line to get a signed poster for a friend, a little boy of about three jumped in and said, "I'm Tanner. I'm with a T," and walked away with a big grin and a personalized Miss Makita poster. Hmmm.

Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus

Erin and Shackleton played a nice game of Wit's End this evening. They were neck for neck until Shackleton had a planetary size question. He was pretty sure uranus was bigger than anything else in the universe.

Are you gay?

So I was interested in which topics Google would pick out of my blog on their Blog-crawling expeditions, and so I set up the ads on the side (ignore them, this is merely a fun experiment) . . . The first ad that came up said "Are you gay?" I'm still trying to figure out where that came from.