Need a laugh?

I be warnin' ya now me hearty - walk the plank if ye're easily offended. We be playin' with vegetables again.

I'm afraid we can't seem to stop ourselves at this point. Although I have to admit, we haven't actually tried.



But look - we do enjoy the finer things. Well, the kids do, anyway.

Last week Rowan, Dagny, Cameron and I went to Blue Hills. We used to hike it regularly, but somehow fell out of the habit, so it's been years since we were there. The day was just a little bit colder than I would have liked, but hot chocolate helped.




Interestingly, we ended up with more pictures of the graffiti on the very cool observation tower than we did of the view. What can I say, we appreciate fine art.

The itsy bitsy Rowan - I mean spider - is loading up her web. Check it out!

Tomorrow night Dagny will be home and when I go to sleep I will not have the one-of-my-babies-is-missing feeling that doesn't seem to completely go away no matter how big your babies get, for which I am actually very grateful.


(Photo stolen without permission from Karen-the-photographer's site. I'm fresh like that.)

Got 52 minutes and 34 seconds? Sadly, they don't play my very favorite songs. But I'm sure that's just because they knew I wasn't there. And they get major bonus points for wearing cardboard boxes with water bottles sticking out the sides on their heads.

Today Jon and Rowan went to an archaeological dig in Duxbury. Volunteers, led by an archaeologist, are working on what they believe is the site of Duxbury's second meeting house.



They found chunks of brick, flakes that could be from toolmaking, quartz, seashells, charcoal, a glass bottle fragment, two small pieces of plate glass, a large stone, and what Rowan thinks could be a partially-formed arrowhead.




I grew up in Duxbury, in a house that was built in 1696 by the son of pilgrims. I'm glad Rowan had a chance to make her own happy historical memories there.

Mya Estefania



(ok, she's Mya Stephanie, but Rowan and I call the shots at this roadside attraction, and we got attached to her possible-name. Don't worry Mya - we'll call you anything you want us to. We are firmly wrapped around your yummy little fingers.)

Rowan got to hold Mya first because even though I'm her great aunt Rowan's her awesome first cousin once removed. This is the kind of logic I'm trying to fight here, people.

Her mama is smart and strong and brave and funny and very good at hearing her own voice amid the clamour of outside voices and I love her to pieces. Her daddy and brothers aren't too shabby either.

Every once in a while I don't get around to unloading my camera, and things happen, and more things happen, and then I unload my camera and I get to remember some of the things that happened and see some things I wasn't even there for. Fun!

So, what do three teenagers do on a Saturday night when they're home alone?