The Roar of the Masses Could be Toots, Part II

Some yuppies opened a bakery / beer hall on 6th street. We've been desperately following the rumor mill - in hopes that it could be the solution. Not sure what happened, but we did get into some monster pretzels.




The Marauder.



We crushed the DOMAIN. All of our shopping areas have silly names.



Accessorizing with stickers. These keep turning up in the lint collector.



Daily watering regimen.



JB's first 3D experience.



Estate sale find. Cue the mushroom soup and kitchen bouquet.



Awwwwwwwww, hot ticking.

The Roar of the Masses Could be Toots...

Mary Austin hit six weeks in stride - much gurgling and murgling. We think she's taking on the chubs. Mom claims she'll be blue eyes, I'd like to see that happen. We are moments from beer gardening, Radegast style. Meanwhile, I hear diaper rapids.

The Jibs, making poetry while I make breakfast.



My ladies.


Took the COMMANDER 120 for its maiden voyage. Caught a lot of lake sticks, no fishes. But, we have a mighty vessel for shores.


Flying into LA. 48 hour turn - thank you Mr. Bryce for the Gjelina tip. I was so not handsome enough, but I took it out on them in hangar steak. Yum.



Shooting.




Directing.


No words needed.



Part two tomorrow probably. With proper MA solaroids.

Keep on the Borderlands

Grading out the Wes Anderson oeuvre:

A

Rushmore
Fantastic Mr. Fox

A -

Tenenbaums
Life Aquatic

B +

Bottle Rocket

C

Darjeeling LTD

I think that's right. But who gives a cuss.


Grandma & Grandpa - first baby handles:



Three cheers for all the help and assists. Jane is 50/50 on this sister thing - she's fine with the sister, less fine about not commanding the full attention of the room. I guess we need more costly toys and sweet treats in the pantry. Easier to deal with a cavity than a complainer. I'll write a book about this kind of parenting soon, where all my tips will be inked and adopted. And then we'll author the one about engaging with child services.

Here's our 6th level illusionist, casting wicked phantagrams at the diaper stewards.



Happy birthday Beav. What better way to celebrate than putting on head gear and eating Kenmore fired pizzas. Paris would actually be better.



When she's not side-mousin' the boobages:




This is one of those times that you consult the books professors write about second child syndrome.


Grandma assaulted all the local to-dos, I think this one is a sculpture garden named after a punctuation.



Which inspired some arts & crabs.


JB, helping dad pick out mice and worms.


And then to the kayak store, where dreams were realized.


Learning to use her cheeks for something other than milk assault.



Because cooking can be stressful.



Jester King - for a Hill Country drink Down!



Speaking of drink downs, we drank these.




The living metaphor.


Good nights from the Whip In. We may be rooting for the G-men.

Ding-a-ling-a-ling

Oh snap! Christmas morning on Deep Eddy! Somebody required extreme get ups.



Santa brought a party ball.


Trying to figure out the notion behind stockings.


Mom remembered the sugar cakes, all the way from Dewey's. Tree was from NC too - a 9.5 footer.


The Sanford Nativity, as decorated by JB.


Post sugar cakes.




New hairdos.



Jane riffing on baby sister.




Santa steaks.


Dec. 28th, James McMurtry at the Continental Club.



New year's brew.


First bath on the baby tub.


The tee-pee has been moved to the bedroom, and is now where sleeping happens.



Eyes wide open.


And closed again.




Paternity leavers.


Took all the ladies out for burgers last night. My girls are getting all growed up, JB ate a quarter pounder - with tomatoes.



Thank you CoCo for 17 days!


Grandma and grandpa just arrived -- round three in progress. Happy new years fools!