Frollick-tober and Go-vember

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

When I was a kid and we had a super awesome Apple II GS, we used the big giant 8" floppy disk to play Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?. It came with a world almanac - like, a book made of paper. Paper! And you had to look up which countries used rupees to determine where that wily Carmen had gone to and nab her on behalf of Interpol. There was no currency exchanged (unless you count trading cookies for hugs) and no embassies had to be applied to, but I did make some tracks the last couple of months.

I was spotted at Mountain Day in early October way up in the hills of Georgia at my alma mater, Berry College. The local cuisine included fried chicken, Dillon-baked chocolate chip cookies and homemade barbecue. Accomplices included several below-three-foot individuals, included those pictured below. Clearly the hat is an attempt at a disguise - but you can't hide that cuteness.

I was then seen heading west into the mountains of North Carolina for the Valle Crucis Fair. It was the kind of crowd you could blend into. Unless, of course, your party included more than one 6-foot-plus man, two toddlers in matching orange coats and a set of twins dressed as pink and blue fuzzy bears. So much for incognito. Traces of the local flora might've been found in my wake since I romped through the hills taking photos.

And then I headed to the eastern part of North Carolina, back to Wilmington, a place I was known to frequent. Spotted at all my old haunts - Grace Street, Deluxe, Wrightsville Beach - I might've been easy to track down. Except, in this case, I actually did pull off a disguise - Shirley Manson for my friend Scott's 40th birthday party.
This old house used to be my house.

This Stupid Girl is Only Happy When it Rains

Still on my tail? You could've found it right where you might most - or least - expect it depending on how well you know me. You might expect that any good Athenian would be found cheering on the hairy dawgs on any given Saturday in October. But the truth is, it was only my second tailgate. With a morning mimosa and a blissfully sunny day in the company of some glamorous cohorts, I relaxed and could've been easily nabbed lolling in the quad beside Memorial Hall.

The incomparable Joneser and Schubert
I didn't stay put long. Back on the road and down (way, way down) I-16 to Savannah. I was on a mission. Transferring some goods at the behest of a client. And while I wasn't to be found on gadding about town, I did manage a clandestine meeting with a good friend who might've been willing to divulge my whereabouts in a little diner on Skidaway Island.

The goods
I was closing in on the end of the great Frollick-tober/Go-vember caper. And what better way to end it than where I started - in the mountains of northwest Georgia with my small accomplices? This time, we were at my sister's house for Thanksgiving. I spoke the language of the natives - giggles. You might've spied me stuffing with stuffing and turkey and sweet potato casserole and deviled eggs. And lest you think I was working alone, I was definitely working under the orders of a tiny dictator - he calls the shots.
Little Napolean
I think she knows the authorities are closing in.
Now I'm relegated back to the couch and my newly acquired Twilight DVD collection (thanks, Target Black Friday Doorbuster!). Me and my tiny henchman and array of colorful accomplices are resting up. But don't worry - this ringleader will be at it again before long, deck the halls and fa-la-la-la and ho ho ho. Christmas capers coming soon.

Overcoming My Slothly Ways

Sunday, September 18, 2011

Lest you think that on every weekend, I'm as industrious as I was on this one, let me update you on today's productivity.

* Finished Ready Player One, a book that, if you grew up in the '80s and have any affinity for the video games of yore, you must read.

* Updated my GoodReads accordingly and demanded that my best friend and at least three others finish and or read it poste haste.

* Browsed the library book sale and scored 30-plus books and a few movies  for a mere $20.

* Successfully avoided gameday traffic.

* Added all new books - and there are quite a few from the recent carnage at Borders - to the shelves in the stubrary. Alphabetized and everything.

* In the process, identified at least four books that can be donated to next year's library sale. Including my copy of Sophie's Choice. The. worst. book. ever. (Okay, so maybe Heart of Darkness is the worst, but I've already gotten rid of that one.)

* Assembled my brand new vacuum cleaner, my very first non-hand-me-down model. And, yes, it's only been riding around in the back of the Rav for a week. Details, details.

* Used said vacuum cleaner to clear away the growing colony of dust bunnies in the corners of my room

* Also used vacuum with hose not properly attached, whirling aforementioned dust bunnies into the air.

* Cleaned both bathrooms, which I'm sorry to say, gave me great concern over the amount of hair I seem to shed.

* Emptied the dishwasher. Loaded the dishwasher. Emptied the dishwasher. I sense a theme here...

* Did four loads of laundry which equals no less than eight trips up and down the basement stairs

* Listened to newly procured Adele's 21 album. So late to the party on that one, but it's a masterpiece.

* Changed the sheets on both beds, meaning tonight's sleep will be Snuggle-rific.

* And speaking of sleep...

Labor (of Love) Day

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

The passage of time is never clearer than when you have tiny lives to mark it. It's been three months since the twins' arrival and already they're plumping up, smiling, stretching out their legs and showing signs of personality. 

Elyssa, the firstborn of the twins, is mostly serious. She furrows her brow a great deal as though she's worrying over us all. Or maybe she's just stressing over whether or not she'll ever have the "e" in her name pronounced instead of just "'Lyssa." Her eyes are bright blue and round and curious. She's a thumb-sucker, but when she can't locate her favorite digit, the other four fingers will do quite nicely. She talks, winding up her arms and legs and forming little o's with her mouth before cooing and grunting with tenacity. She has something to say. She's a bit bothered by my camera. I've assured her she'll get used to it. She looks sweet in the soft pastels that didn't suit her older sister. And even though she's almost a dozen pounds, she still feels petite and delicate when you hold her. And she's a divine little snuggler.
Elyssa, 3 months

Baby 'Lyssa

Ethan, four minutes her junior, is known as "the chunk." As light and elegant as his twin is, he's all muscle or bulk or...something. When you hold him, it's like a load of potatoes. Precious potatoes that you want to squeeze tightly and smooch on the bald, round head. His eyes, which we think are going to be hazel, positively twinkle. Because he's a smilebox. That's what we call him because he smiles a hilarious toothless, gummy smile whenever you talk to him. And he adores his nana - Justin refers to Mama as Ethan's girlfriend because he just gazes lovingly at her with those bright starry eyes. And smiles. He kicks a lot and frets his hands together in what we refer to as "frick-a-prickin," which is why Mama crocheted him a little blue blanket to worry his fingers against.
Our Smilebox

Ethan, 3 months

And it's not just the newborns who remind us of time passing. Dillon went to his first day of preschool on Friday. He's taken to puzzles and can do 100-piece puzzles with just a bit of assistance. He's continuing to amass facts and bits of trivia and stories so that every once in awhile he surprises you with something that you know a 4-year-old doesn't normally know. He's a little theologian with impressive biblical knowledge. He's developing his sense of humor, although it's taking a bit longer for him to grasp the nuance of humor. Justin told him he needed to ask God for a sense of humor, and, bless his heart, he couldn't even remember what it was when it came time to pray for it. For Justin's birthday, he and Reese painted a set of six porcelain monsters. His were named Dezi, Sir Angus and Two-Finger.
Dillon loves Nana bread

Reese isn't lagging behind her brothers and sister. She recently had her first haircut. She's following her brother's footsteps with knock-knock jokes. Hers don't even come close to making sense. She's a princess and a mean fairy and little lion and a ballerina and a mommy to countless dolls. She sings, sometimes songs we know, and sometimes songs only she knows. She scrunches her nose up  - only on one side - when she's either a grumpy bear or something's "not her favorite." Things that are her favorite: My Little Ponies, tutus and chocolate milk. Her monsters' names were Effy, Deffy and My Mama's Sister. For the record, her mama doesn't have a sister.
Oh, my sweet, sweet, Reesie. A spunky little one, she is.

Was there ever such a delightful foursome as this?
"The Big Kids"
The Twins

A Joke, by Dillon

Sunday, September 4, 2011

Q: What did the goose say to the boose*?

A: Eyebrow**

*The origins of the word "boose" lie in the mind of Dillon. I have no idea what its part of speech or meaning might be.

**Though I couldn't possibly explain the meaning of this joke (see the above definition of the word "boose"), Dillon's delivery was so charming, I couldn't help but laugh.

Big Accomplishments Today

Saturday, August 27, 2011

* Sleep
* Watched The Proposal, which furthered my love of Betty White

* Watched Easy A, which furthered my love of Emma Stone, but not like in a Jim Carrey way.

* Changed the password to my email so that my friends, family and people long unspoken to in my e-mail contact list will not receive any more offers of Cialis. Or the Beer for Breakfast diet.

* Finished a bag of Gummi Bears purloined from the Kroger $1 bin.

* Sleep.

* Got a hankering for Sunday brunch and scheduled it thusly with the lovely Nikki Smith.

* Made a list of things needed from Walmart, which made it abundantly clear that I am very nearly not going to have sufficient materials to maintain an adequate personal hygiene routine.

* Finally roused up the energy to have a personal hygiene routine.

* Returned my Redbox movies prior to 9 p.m.

* Went to Wallmart where I was remarkably self-controlled until I arrived at the $5 DVD bin which contained Elvis's Viva Las Vegas.

* Procured toilet paper, much needed since I was down to one roll.

* Stripped the sheets from my bed, which I'm sorry to say, were dirty enough to walk themselves to the laundry

* Finished the Double Stuf Oreos so I will no longer be tempted by them.

* Cut my nails, an activity so simple and mundane that I've spent all week dreaming of having five minutes to do it.

* Made a list of things to do tomorrow that will undoubtedly will not get done because, let's face it - every day can't be this productive.

Strip It. Strip It Good.

Sunday, July 24, 2011

With the odds stacked against me after my first trip to Vegas, I had to go back to Sin City just a few weeks later. A nonstop flight delivered me safely to McCann International where a silent cabbie took me back to the strip and deposited me at The Venetian where I was greeted by an accordion player in front of a giant gold-leaf fountain underneath a Michelangelo-style painted dome. Welcome to Vegas.

The hotel hosts a performance of Phantom of the Opera every night, so as you're walking to your room under dainty cherubs and elaborate chandeliers, they're piping haunting organ music and Christine's high notes, which you have to believe make those little glass pendants on the chandeliers tremble. And wonder if some half-masked caped stranger will be on the elevator when the doors open.

Business ended on a Friday night at 6, but my nonstop return flight didn't depart until first thing Saturday morning. As such, I found myself wandering down the strip alone, a stranger in a very, very strange land. Determined to make the best of it, I took in the pirate show at Treasure Island - which, for the record, was preceded by Ini Kamoze's "Here Comes the Hot Stepper" on the loudspeaker. The show itself featured two sirens named Cinnamon and Sugar who lure poor Captain Mack and his decidedly hunky crew aboard their siren ship by singing and gyrating in scanty glittered hot pants. After that explosive show came to an end, I headed to The Mirage for a volcanic eruption and then back to the classics at The Forum abutting Caesar's Palace where all sorts of amazing replica statuary lives. From the heart of Italy, I jaunted to Paris and its Eiffel Tower. And no trip down the strip would be complete without a viewing of The Bellagio fountains, which, for the upcoming Fourth of July holiday, were choreographed to Lee Greenwood's "God Bless the USA."

After hours of being a quiet watcher among the noisy crowds wearing ginormous test tubes of multicolored alcohol and of studiously ignoring casino barkers and those peddling the seedier side of Vegas who made me walk like Mary Katherine Gallagher to keep them from putting things in my hands, I headed back to the Phantom's lair. I captured my journey entirely on my iPhone and assembled my bizarre evening on the strip into a little photo book. Me and Vegas aren't at odds anymore, but frankly, if I play my cards right, I won't be going back any time soon.


Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Photo: Leo Reynolds
According to Wikipedia, 32 is a happy number. It's also the number of pages in a standard comic book. And the Fahrenheit temperature at which water freezes. Today, it's also my age - a way of marking the passage of time. The last few years, that particular pastime has been full of frustrations at those things that weren't part of the equation. Those things that, in my own mind and heart or in the eye's of others were subtractions. But this year, I choose to look at the math a little differently. This year, I'm going to look at what adds up to 32 reasons to celebrate myself.
  1. Daughter - Perhaps my first role in I arrived almost a full month late for, but when I showed up, it was with a total devotion to my parents that I carry still.
  2. Little sister - It came fast on the heels of daughter, being a sister, and the fierce loyalty and love for my older sister and brother with it.  
  3. Friend - I'm still friends with some of my earliest friends - Sarah, who I've known since I was three; Niki, who's been one of my dearest friends since first grade.  That loyalty thing again.
  4. Loyalty - So let's talk about that thing loyalty. Once I'm won, I'm hard to lose.
  5. Smile - From the earliest pictures, I can see my smile. Even if the baby face doesn't look like me anymore, that smile - big, open, happy - is there.
  6. Laugh - Loud, cackling and anything but ladylike, it's frequent and heartfelt. And contagious.
  7. Writer - I found one of the great loves of my life early in words and stuck with it.
  8. Pictures - My eyes see, and I can show what I see.
  9. Honesty - I cannot tell a lie. Never could.
  10. Hugs - Hugs are little bits of love passed on through a squeeze. I believe in 'em. And I give them out with reckless abandon.
  11. Compassion - No one ever cries alone.
  12. Left-handed - My wronghandedness has always been a badge of honor - especially when I have the telltale smear of pen ink on the outside of my hand.
  13. Humor - I can laugh at me.  That's important.
  14. Courage - When I got to a point in my life when I really needed help, I admitted my frailties and found the strength to ask for help.
  15. Clumsiness - My bruises and scrapes (literal and figurative) have been the reason for many a side-splitting story.
  16. Dandelions - I know they're weeds, but even weeds need love.
  17. Hopeful - Despite the trials and tribulations, I never lose hope that better things await.
  18. Creativity - The inner-workings of my brain are mysterious and magical.
  19. Faith in mankind - While it gets me into trouble from time to time, I have an unfailing (some would say naive) faith in the goodness of man.
  20. Aunt - A more recent addition to my list (four years and counting), I lavish love on my nieces and nephews.  And promise to teach the left-handed one to tie his shoes.
  21. Volunteer - The notion of giving of one's self and one's time entirely for the benefit of someone else carries the power of change.
  22. Adventure - Some would question my inclusion of this...not an innate quality of mine...but a learned one that has led me to push my boundaries and discover the world outside of my comfort zone.
  23. Openness - No mystery here, which I often lament. But you can trust that what you see is what you get.
  24. Simplicity - While I can get caught up in an overstimulated need/want frenzy with the best of them, in the end, I can enjoy the simplest of things: clouds, a particularly lovely tree, a drop of water on the edge of a petal, that you can buy something called Fluff in a jar.
  25. House - The bane of my existence for some time, it's still something I accomplished. Like a grown-up or something.
  26. Nostalgia - All that came before, hazy with hindsight, is precious.
  27. Shoes - What, you say?  How can shoes be on this list?  Because they've evolved into some extension of all the facets of my personality.  A shoe for all seasons.
  28. Grace in the profane - One of my grad school professors used this phrase all the time...and I like to think I've learned how to see the grace even in the dimmest of circumstances.
  29.  Curiosity - Mostly this leads to the accumulation of more useless trivia knowledge, but occasionally, I find a way to turn it into something meaningful.
  30.  Encourager - I will be your cheerleader and your champion.  Your triumph is mine; your failure is a reason for me to swoop in with hugs (see #10).
  31.  Singing - It's a terrible racket. But I do it because it makes me happy - with the windows down and the radio up, and it's one thing that's taught me not to apologize for those things that bring me joy.
  32. Love - In an ever-widening circle of people, from those who have known me for decades, to those who have come into my life in recent years and months, there is love.  I never run out of that.
So that's my list.  Happy birthday to me and all my 32 years.

Double Trouble: An Update

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Three weeks since our peas in the pod made their appearance.  Since then, both are making early strides toward the competitive eating arena, with Elyssa at the forefront gaining a pound and a half.  Once lagging behind her brother by almost that much, she's a solid 7-pounder behind her brother's 8.  Ethan's breathing hasn't been a problem since he left the hospital - unless he's gasping in desperation to be fed.  Elyssa's eye infection cleared up, although both twins still have mysterious eye colors that could go blue like Dillon or brown like Reese or something else all together.  Both are also champions at destroying diapers, and it's like finding the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow if you're emptying a trashcan that isn't piled with Pampers.  And while most of the time, you probably envision the twins looking sweet and serene cuddled together like this:
Elyssa & Ethan

The fact of the matter is that we see a lot of this:
Big yawn

And this:
Just loving having her picture made

 And in case you were wondering about Dillon and Reese...well, they're still some of the cutest bugaboos around, although perhaps Daddy would disagree at this moment here:
Wake up, Daddy!

All in all, four kids are keeping everyone...on their toes.


Big Brother Goes to the Hospital

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

In the past 36 hours, Ethan has rotated between the regular nursery and NICU, his breathing regulating itself and then growing rapid again.  So he'd take his transport - which I imagine to be very Star Wars-like - between the 7th and 5th floors.  With his yo-yoing progress, Justin and Eva's discharge from the hospital has shifted, too.  Plus the silver drops they put in Elyssa's eyes have resulted in a reaction and subsequent infection. 

And while everyone wants what's best for the twins, there are two other little people who miss Mommy and Daddy so much - and I know Mommy and Daddy miss them, too.  And though we felt Reese was too small, we thought Dillon might enjoy a visit to the see them.  So while Reese napped, Nana, Aunt Sneaky Pete and me took Dillon out into the garden where he clipped four black-eyed susans: one for Mommy, one for Daddy and one for each of the twins.  Sporting his big brother t-shirt and pin and wearing his ever-present firehat, we trekked down to Northside.  He walked very calmly to the hospital, holding my hand and Nana's, but when he spotted Daddy in the lobby, he took off running and launched himself into Justin's arms like it'd been two months rather than two days since he'd seen him.  Mommy got an equally enthusiastic reaction when she opened the door to the room.  He didn't even care that his helmet was knocked off by her big hug for her big boy. 

He took meeting the twins in stride, declaring them both "cutie patooties" and very carefully holding them in his lap.  He wanted to pet their heads, and his zeal led to several reminders to touch gently.  But he was sweet and kissed them and sang lullabies to them and asked them to please come watch cartoons with him tomorrow morning.  And right about now, Justin and Eva should be departing from the hospital with both twins in tow, and so Big Brother just might get his wish.

Dillon meets Ethan
So unbelievably sweet
Mommy gets Ethan to open his eyes
Dillon meets Elyssa
Dillon says, "Hi, Elyssa!"
Dillon plays peek-a-boo with Ethan so he'll smile.

Happiness Times Two

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

For those of you who are not on The Facebook, and therefore not privy to the onslaught of Twinapalooza pictures yesterday, here are some for your viewing pleasure.  

Sweet Ethan was having a bit of trouble breathing and was whisked off to the transitional nursery shortly after being born, so that's why most of my pictures are of Elyssa.  He moved to NICU in the night, but it looks like he's getting his strength and will be joining his sister later this afternoon.  As the bigger twin who was accused of "stealing the groceries" by one of the doctors, Ethan should be glad to know that his sister is making up for lost time by eating constantly.

Thank you to all of the many friends and family who prayed for us during this time.  We all feel so blessed to have two precious new family members.

Elyssa Anne Harp

Ethan Carter Harp

Mimi with Elyssa and Nana with Ethan

A proud mama with the two little ones she brought into the world.

Parents of two, now parents of four.

Daddy loves double trouble.

Smitten (with Elyssa)

Grandpa with Elyssa

Uncle Greg, Mimi and Pops

Breaking News

Monday, May 30, 2011

5:05 p.m.
Elyssa Anne, 5 lbs., 14 oz., 19.5"

Ethan Carter, 7 lbs., 3 oz.  and 20"

4:49 p.m.
Elyssa Anne Harp and Ethan Carter Harp are here, born about four minutes apart.  Both babies are healthy, Eva is somewhere between a saint and my hero!

4:43 p.m.
The doctor has pulled out a breeched boy!  And everyone is good!

4:41 p.m.
Baby Girl is here safely!!!

4:39 p.m.
Eva just lamented that she has Hobbit feet, but that will all pass.  AND WE HAVE A BABY GIRL HEAD!

4:30 p.m.
Baby Girl will be born first.  She is turned and ready to go.  Baby Boy is breeched, but we're hoping that everything will go well.  We're about to start the pushing...

4:20 p.m.
Eva is 6 cm.  She's having serious contractions, and we are getting ready to roll!

4:15 p.m.
Eva's epidural is going in now. She's had two bags of fluid. Ultrasound is next. And while all this is going on, we're sitting in the waiting room Watching Pawn Stars.

3:45 p.m.
We're here!!! The babies are still hanging out in Eva's belly.

3:20 p.m.
So truth be told, I'd been a lazy sot today and hadn't even showered yet when Justin called. If my makeup looks off in the pictures, it's because it was a highway job. Eva is safely in labor and delivery. Unfortunately, it won't be Eva's regular doctor doing the delivery, but they did meet the doc who will have the honors, and Justin liked him. At this point, Eva would let a trained monkey do the job so she's fine with this seemingly capable physician. They are doing an ultrasound to make sure the babies ate ready for delivery and then will start the epidural. Getting on 85 and Earnharp estimates our arrival at 20 minutes.

3:00 p.m.
We thought we'd have a nice, orderly induced delivery of the twins. But Eva's water broke about thirty minutes ago. And so I'm coming to you live from 316 from the passenger seat of the Harp family party van driven by Brad "Earnhardt" Harp. Eva and Justin have made it to the hospital, and contractions are three minutes apart. So these kids and yours truly are coming at a high rate of speed. Stay tuned...

Stairway to Haven

Since my return from Vegas, I wouldn't exactly say the hand I've been dealt has been a pleasant one.  As happens many a time when you belly up to the table of life, the cards aren't the ones you hoped for and there's no ace in the sleeve.  Instead, you have to toss your hand, nod to the dealer and cut your losses.

But losing my chips has left me a bit blue-deviled.  I'm not an inherent risk-taker, but when I decide to take one, the consequences of failure tend to hit me like blunt-force trauma.  I don't recover well.

A funny thing happened, though, this last losing hand.  Even as I bemoaned my losses at one table, I was racking up winnings elsewhere.  Other hands played suddenly came through like windfalls aplenty...and though my pockets in one moment seemed empty, the next they were filled with other treasures.  Proffered Kleenex.  Hugs.  YouTube hilarity and brownie breaks.

Centerpiece at The National
On Thursday, I found myself lunching at The National with friends. The air inside was cooled by the cinderblock exterior; the colors were soothing, muted, peaceful.  The food was exceptional; the company even more so.

I was feeling well and refreshed that evening as I sat across the desk from E and chatted about this and that.  Realizing the lateness of the hour, we both agreed to pack it in for the night.  Outside, the wind picked up and the rain, which had been falling steadily, began an earnest, violent downpour.  We lamented our umbrellalessness as we pushed out the office door into the second-story stairwell landing.

Through the windows, we could see a tableau: the Athens skyline against an eerie greenish-white sky split above by a malevolent looking black cloud, its edges curling and twisting like it might give birth to a tornado at any moment.  And just as we took in the scene, the power died; emergency lights cast bleak white light on the stairs, various sirens and alarms sounded through the building, and we headed for cover.

That's how E and me found ourselves huddled together under the concrete stairs while the wind howled and tore at the trees.  The rain pummeled the building.  And as we both looked up the radar on our iPhones and messaged homebases for advice on what to do, we concluded from the bright red doppler cells and the wisdom of our phone-a-friends to stay put.

Wall Stairs by Aaron Tang
It was dark under the stairs.  A bit musty and dirty.  From time to time, the voices of other inhabitants in the building would echo through the stairwell.  But E and me stayed put, our little legs stuck out in front of us so that the only thing visible to passersby were four well-shod feet.  But our voices - and more importantly our laughter - made it clear that we were there weathering the storm.

In 20 minutes - maybe 30 - the wind seemed to be more of a raspy rant and the rain dripped rather than dumped and E and me emerged from our stronghold as people under the stairs.  Outside, the eerie lighting remained, but the worst seemed to be over.  As we stood at the bottom of the stairs and conferred over whether it seemed safe for us to make a break for it, E said, "I'm glad you were still here."

"Me, too," I said.  "And from now on, we'll just think of this as our 'Stairway to Haven.'"  We laughed again, filling the empty stairwell with our cackling.

As I pulled away from the parking lot - E behind me, safely in her car - I thought of how lucky we were to have averted disaster.  And I realized, that, even though it doesn't always feel like it, I do have an ace up my sleeve...and that when the chips are down...when it seems like the only choice is to fold as a loser...that I've actually always got a trump card: that those dear ones who surround me will be there during the storm.  And though we may not come out winners, we'll at least hide under the stairs together until the worst of it passes.

Adventure Monkey in NOLA (without me)

Saturday, May 14, 2011

My buddy Chad spotted Adventure Monkey flying high at the New Orleans Jazz Festival last weekend.  That wily fellow is making appearances even where I'm not.  Love it!