Sometimes you just gotta jump in and do it.
When you're weeks (not months yet, I hope?) behind on posting, and the thoughts just pile on and you don't know where to begin and friends are even asking, "Are you pregnant?" because that's usually the reason you don't post for weeks on end (and the answer is NO!!!)...
Well. it's probably time to just write SOMETHING. Forget the grandiose stuff and just get it done already.
In September, we went to Maine. It was the vacation that almost didn't happen. Where do we go? How much time do we spend? Who will watch the chickens? How do we do it (falling apart camper, campground, rental house?)??
But in the end, we did it the only way we know how: last minute, and of course it's Maine, and let's hurry up and get there.
After, of course, we pass New York City.
Rental house won. And really, of course it did. We brought the bikes. Rental house on the corner of two dead end streets means lots of time for biking on vacant roads.
"Look! We found a playhouse!" the kids cried. Ethan told them that was our vacation home. They might have believed him if we hadn't spent the previous night in the real vacation home. So, no, it's not the vacation home. And no, it's not a playhouse and don't touch anything and mind you watch for stray hypodermic needles and broken glass.
And also, get away from there ASAP.
The coast. Oh, the coast.
::Swoon:: I am so smitten. Oh, and I think Ada's pretty cute, too.
A driftwood see-saw, fashioned by Papa. Pretty cool.
And, for today, I'll stop there. I'm fairly sure all these pictures have slowed down my mother-in-law's computer, and I can take only so much baby thigh chub. I just need to go s-q-u-e-e-z-e something.