... and managed to survive (mostly) the old boy rugby game on Saturday, a couple of days of my asthma kicking up, and the "Great Chlorine Gas Attack of 2010" incident. We shall pass lightly over those mortal threats to life and limb and move on to other items. As you may have already deduced, I don't really have a coherent blog post here, but I did want to point out a few items of interest.
Item #1 -- My sister Susan has finally schemed a dog of her very own for her family, a chocolate lab named Booth. With any luck this means that we now longer have to check their baggage when they visit to ensure that they aren't trying to smuggle Katie the Beagle back to Gettysburg. Go visit her at Gettysburg Family to see a very cute photo of the new pooch, or to contribute to her attempt to corner the world chocolate labrador retriever haiku market.
Katie the Beagle would like to pass along that she feels secure in her place atop the global canine haiku market, since "Katie the Beagle" contains a convenient five syllables, whereas "Booth the Chocolate Labrador Retriever" contains a very un-haikuish eleven syllables.
Item #2 -- My Dad is now online and on Facebook. Or, he is if he can figure out, "Why did it all go away when I clicked that button?" In any case, we have full confidence that he will eventually once again find the World Wide Web, Facebook, and his profile. I shan't include a link in the blog, but if you would like to friend him on Facebook you can now find him on my friends list.
This officially makes my stepfather and wife the last Facebook holdouts in the Western Hemisphere.
Item #3 -- Visitors! The summer visitations officially kicked off late last night when Phil Gaven blew threw town with his two daughters and their friend. They were just stopping by for a pit stop on the way to Chicago, but we'll see them again when they stop by next week for a day or two of fun on the lake. In the meantime, Monique sent them out the door with a fabulous pancake breakfast, so I like to think we're a better bet than the average Motel Eight.
It's nice to have the summer visitations under way. Frankly, nobody wants to visit Detroit during the winter.
Item #4 -- Here at work we just added the term "Vuvuzelas" to our controlled vocabulary. I don't have much to say about that, but I love typing the word vuvuzela.
Try it everybody: Vuvuzela, vuvuzela, vuvuzela. Rolls trippingly off the fingertips, doesn't it?
Frankly, the name of the horn sounds 10,000 times better than the horrible screeching sounds that have overwhelmed a few World Cup matches.
And so, in closing, I say to all of you: vuvuzela.