Every time I come home to visit I have too many people I want to see and not enough time. This time has been no different. It’s tough to be so popular.


Joanna came over on Wednesday night. We behaved in the ruckus manner we’re known for by spending an hour at The Christmas Tree Shop. Can’t hold us down! Joanna discussed the feelings and repercussions of her recent breakup and I had a debate over whether or not to buy sticks wrapped in lights for my mantle. Between the two of us it’s pretty obvious who can have an intelligent theological discussion and who wants to decorate a room with sequins.


My uncle took my cousin and I to the shooting range. Despite the fact I have a concealed carry license I’m not a big fan of handling guns. I can do it but I don’t love it. I don’t like gun ranges either. I’m always afraid someone will go crazy and shot everyone in the building. Christopher says that’s crazy and maybe it is, but it still makes me nervous. Thankfully no one else was there so I didn’t worry for my life as much. We had to staple our target to a piece of cardboard and I couldn’t get the stapler to work. What a great start. I almost decided I should’t pick up a gun after I couldn’t operate a standard piece of office equipment. I did a little better than I expected but I’m no expert marksman. The US Olympic shooting team won’t be offering me a contract.


Today is Grandma’s 88th birthday. All week long Sesame has been saying “Happy bir’day, Memere! Happy bir’day, Memere!” and singing happy birthday. She wanted to give Memere a black balloon but I couldn’t find one (not that I looked very hard) so I bought a flowered one instead. She was very excited about the balloon until it was time to present it along with a painted gingerbread man box. She dropped the gifts and didn’t say a word. I guess she’s not a monkey who performs on demand. (Don’t judge my after-Christmas gingerbread man. We painted so many boxes during moments of afternoon boredom we’ll probably be giving them away in July.) Once Memere brought out the music boxes they were BFF’s once again.

I’ve taken on the responsibility of making the cake for her party tomorrow. Nothing like the pressure of creating what I hope will be the best cake of the last 88 years! Fingers and toes crossed it doesn’t fall off the plate when I carry it across the yard.