The picture of the creepy man in thigh-high boots and red panties? Sean Connery in "Zardoz", the worst…I want to say "movie" but it just doesn’t seem like the right word…thing I’ve ever had the displeasure of watching. Ever.
But that’s coming from someone who thinks Madagascar 2 just might be the most heavenly brilliant cinematic achievement the world has ever known. (So scrumptroulescent, I can barely move.)
We’ve been having a busy week. Band concerts, dentists appointments, choir contests, soccer sign-ups. I’ll tell you what we’re not doing: fighting with Mia in the morning about her hair. Her new style is really working for her. It’s just a quick–and I do mean quick–brush and BAM!–she’s ready to go.
I’m loving this warm weather. Caleb and I have already started talks about what we’re (he’s) going to plant in our garden this year. We’ve already decided that cucumbers are a no go. They never grow right and I hate them anyway. We could probably handle a little less yellow squash, and I think we’re cutting back on jalepeno peppers too. We can never have too many tomatoes or onions. I love gardening (read also gardening: spoils of, and gardening: other people’s hard work.)