Actually, I'm hoping that by putting NaBloFoSho (one more for the road!) behind us, I can stop posting stupid shit like that series on the old shoes rotting in my closet. Really, NaBlo kind of takes it out of you and you just end up writing for the sake of having something to post. I feel like the month was basically taken up with remembrances of days gone by that could interest no one but me and book report-style writing about trips to the movies and relatively uneventful walks in the woods.
It's time to get back to the heart of this blog, which is subverting the current status quo through barely researched, barely amusing rants with barely discernible subjects that entirely betray my lack of focus and commitment to the idea I'm trying to convey. But always with that one good keeper sentence that makes me smile and makes the whole exercise worth it.
But not today, because today I've got pictures. We went to coastal North Carolina for the long holiday weekend where it has become a tradition over the past three years for my parents and two of their friends to rent some condos and gather whatever family members they could for a low-stress good time. My folks managed to bring along my mom's mom, along with me and my lady friend, while their friends Nick and Diane chipped in their two sons, a daughter-in-law and Diane's parents. A better showing than we've had in the past, which made for much more interesting Pictionary marathons. For the record, The Guys annihilated The Girls 4-nil. Guys rule, girls drool. And watching old people try to communicate using only a dry erase board and no words is frickin' hilarious.
We spent one day at the beach, where I think the ladies faired much better at bocce than they did with Pictionary, although we can conveniently blame that on the fact that the men all threw their arms out tossing around a football beforehand. The weather was beyond perfect, allowing for not only bare feet and short sleeves, but also some beach blanket napping by the senior set.
On with the illustrations.
I take a mean portrait of a dinner roll. Delicious, but a waste of space in light of the other offerings on the table.
My grandmother peering through Courtney's glass of wine.
Over the shoulder. I count five bottles of wine visible in this photo. Did I mention this group drinks? We do.
Totally demolished. I rocked that shit and then went back for more. Note the plastic disposable plate. This was not a green Thanksgiving, but you do not complain when someone else has purchased all the food and is paying for your room.
Nick preparing to unleash a wicked spiral. This is a good bike-riding beach, not to mention a good bocce beach. Shit'll roll for days.
Courtney putting one close.