“What street is this??” I yelled up to the boy watching us float past him. He told me that we were just about to enter the Ninth Circle of Hell.
PHEW! Almost done!
Three hours to travel 2.5 miles… Could we have walked faster than the creek carried us? Oh, THAT’S the point my kids were making when they got out of their tubes and dragged them the last four blocks! Oh, kids! So subtle!
I didn’t get a photograph of them on our adventure, BUT a giant spider landed on my belly! AND who needs a picture of all three when one of them modeled for the company that made our tubes?
(Grip those handles! Safety first, Dylan!)
I only thought the creek-pollution caused blindness one time and I only lost my sunglasses one time — I’d call that a win!
Here’s a card, maybe inspired by laughter-induced bladder incontinence. MAYBE NOT.
ALSO, I made this because I am so into politics:
So, you don’t need to watch the news tonight. You’re welcome.
The other passengers made calls on their flip-phones, watched who-knows-what on portable televisions, drove their remote-controlled cars up and down the aisle, talked to each other on walkie-talkies, and blasted music on transistor radios! Meanwhile we, The Law-Abiding, were stuck in the teeny-tiny bathroom, forced to take hysterical selfies.
BUT, we managed to land safely, no thanks to all of that recklessness. I will NOT be giving them my latest Thank You Card.
The very next day was filled with so much splashing and laughter and sunscreen, I’m sure Ben was looking down on us and giggling! Oh, how he’d giggle!
AND here’s a little thing from The Boston Globe about 
The odor of rotten animal is unforgettable and like the odor of rotting potato, it is embedded in the brain. But sometimes the brain jumbles the smell of decomposing rodent with the smell of a blanket of maggots coating the bottom of the garbage can.
And I am here because I love the smell of flooded basements. 
Is that asbestos tile??
Don’t hurry home guys!
And *I* know it’s summer for other, more important, reasons.
But I’m trying to be a better person/less into body-sculpting, so I decided to read a book. It was written by 
Chapter 25 was especially fun to read because Madge is so near and dear to my heart and I could relate to the notion of elder-abuse.
Except my mom has made it very clear that she wants to be euthanized via pillow-suffocation, pre-elder-abuse.
but I have never really studied it…
And again…
I KNEW IT.
And EMTs had to come to that same dingy bedroom, on that very same night, because we thought my chest-tube had fallen out?
Choosing paint color is just like choosing ink color. But with less Jen and more anxiety.
Dinah told me later that she was plotting my murder while I took this photo.
Who needs pants when you have legs like that? Amiright??
Broken femur?
SERIOUSLY???