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The day started simply enough....at FIVE THIRTY. I am NOT a morning person. Thus the following photo:

Lens cap on. Der.

This is the reason I was up:

Baxter. He's ten weeks old and pays close attention to me when I waggle my finger at him and fuss, "Look at the camera, Bax! LOOK!" <--sarcasm

Despite the fact that it was early, it was very humid and I felt sticky-yucky after walking the pup for only thirty or forty minutes. I decided to get a shower before I went back to bed. My linen closet is shameful:

My mother would be horrified.

This is usually the last thing I see before going to sleep at night and the first thing I view upon waking up every morning:

I matted and framed the print myself; in case you aren't familiar with it, it's 'Master Bedroom' by Andrew Wyeth and it's really soothing to me. I flopped around and gazed at it for about an hour to no avail. My body said, "aaaaaaaaaregoghroewsleeeeeep" but my brain was already on 'go', so I just finally got my ass on out of bed.

On my way through the kitchen to get a soda, the aquarium caught my eye. I've been wanting to tell the story behind the Human Torch nestled in the bottom of it for some time now, but never seemed to get around to taking this photo:

The Human Torch is one of my favorite comic book characters and I have small toys scattered about my desk. This used to be one of them, until Mathias (then 2) ripped his arm off (he was Bam-Bam in another life). He was obviously ignoring the oft-repeated "Mommy's things! NO TOUCHY!" rule.

Around the same time poor Johnny Storm was brutalized, we set up the aquarium in our kitchen. Giving him a burial at sea was the natural progression of things. I can still see my hero on a daily basis, arm raised in defiance despite his handicap, and Mathias can victimize him no longer.

Maxim got out of bed:

He is more of a morning person than I am. I have no sense of humor until the clock rolls quadruple digits.

Once again, time to walk the iddy pooch, and I notice in the new daylight that the mailbox has sustained further damage:

The box is so new that I haven't even gotten around to painting our name on it yet, but it's been attacked three times already. This infuriates Maxim. I think that it's rather funny, myself, but I cringe at how tacky the box looks: "We's white trash, oh yes we is !"

I like taking photos of run-down outbuildings, for some reason...they have this character that shines through:

Plus, they make really GREAT black-and-white photos.

Once Baxter was all trotted out, he flopped into a corner of the living room. While I was checking nooks and crannies to find him ("No doggy business on the carpet, Bax!!") the dress-up closet caught my eye:

It's an antique 1940's wardrobe that I found on eBay last November for around a hundred dollars ("Hey lady, you know I'm robbin' you??"). Our friend Matte, who is quite the talented artist, painted it for us. I loaded it up with the dress-up stuff I had been gathering on the sly for some time, and Santa Claus surprised the kids with it last Christmas. It's a center of constant activity in our home and is really, really popular with the overnight-staying munchkin set. As you can see, the clothes are constantly trying to escape.

I'm a forward-thinker: I already imagine my future grandbabies rummaging through it, parading around in the same get-ups as Sam, Scout and Mathias did.

Looked like it might rain, so I got out into the yard while I could to check on the garden and the many fruit trees we have. The blackberry bush that yielded only a small bowlful last year is loaded for bear this year:

My mom-in-law brought Mathias home shortly after. Mathias is in protest of the dog and refuses to socialize with Bax:

He hid in his bunkbed, yelling for me to "Take the puppy hoooooome, mommy!" for nearly an hour before he had to pee really, really badly and ran as quickly as he could for the bathroom. I told him I was proud of him for not wetting his pants and for being brave enough and responsible enough to go potty when necessary. We decided that a treat was in order.

I took him to the bakery:

He likes to tell the lady behind the counter what he wants: "Spinkas, peez." It makes him feel all bigpants and stuff.

By the way, they have really, really good fucking cakes there:

My friend Christie buzzed me on the way out; she sounded desperate. She was alone at work, everyone had hangovers and punked out on her and she couldn't leave the store.

I went to pick up some food for her at our favorite Mexican eatery and I am OH SO GLAD I DID, because this greeted me:

They got in these beautifully-carved and brightly-painted tables and chairs since I was there last. I dunno, corny as it sounds, those tables and chairs just kinda made my day. They were just so pretty.

Took Chris her grub and decided to wander the outlets since we were there already. All manner of things spoke to Mathias' and my fancies:

        

I couldn't resist taking a picture of this display at the party goods store:

Something about them just drew me in and fascinated me.

When we got back home it was time for Mathias' nap and Bax's walk, so down went Mathias and out the door went the dog and me. A few blocks up the road there was this forlorn soccer ball:

Wonder what it did to be abandoned like that?

Block or so to the left we have a church that I have always been enamoured of:

The other side of the church exactly mirrors what you see here. I would have taken the photo from the front to show you how graceful and balanced it is, but they just put up this clunky, ugly-assed sign on the front lawn. *sigh* I wish it had been open when I went by....the inside is just gorgeous.

On the way home I nearly pissed myself with laughter:

Picture, if you will, me standing on the corner in front of this sign, holding a dog leash and quite literally doubled over with laughter.

Took the pup home, told Maxim I wanted to go shoot some statues, and took off in the car. I needed gas, so I stopped at a Texaco that had this on the counter:

I found this strangely humorous and started snapping. The Korean guy behind the counter got very, very nervous, and we had the following exchange:

"Why you tayka pitcha ?"
"Cos, man, that is funny." *chuckle-chuckle, snicker*
"Eet funnay? Why eet funnay?"
I gestured dumbly at the display, "Well, look at it! A PEN LIGHTER. A. Pen. Lighter." *giggle*
"Yes, but why you tayka pitcha?"
"No special reason. It's just funny to me and I'm just going around shooting things today."
"Ahhhhh....you shoot theeens mahch?"
"Sometimes."
"Pen lighta EEEES funnay." *hyuck-hyuck* People are just fucking weird, you know? It must just be the air on this mountain.

We have a concrete statuary nearby and I thought I might go there to take a photos. They used to leave it wide open at all hours, but I got there and the place was all locked up, making it necessary for me to do a little 'navigating around the fence'. It was worth it, though:

I love the way that shot turned out. And when I look at this one, something about it makes me want to cry:

I got some fucked-up, creepy-looking shots of stone rabbits sitting on a table, as well.

I got in the car just to drive for a while....driving soothes me like nothing else (except for maybe music...). After a bit I stopped to get a Pepsi and a paper:

There you have the Sand Mountain Reporter, The Huntsville Times and The Birmingham News.

At one point I found myself passing the antiques shop that holds the lamp I've lusted for months and months. Bad girl that I am, I hung a big huge U-ey and pulled damn near onto the sidewalk to snap a photo:

When I say I lust that lamp, I mean it. I completely and totally covet it and the obsession I have with it has become almost sexual. I just refuse to pony up four hunnert bux.

I drove until it began to get dark out....

....and then I ordered a pizza to wag home to the boys....

When I got home I saw that Brewmeister Maxim was hard at work setting up some kind of something that I'm a-sure the 'Revenooers' wouldn't take kindly to if they were to know:

So do us all a favor and don't tell, wouldja?

Mathias is very proud of the 'pouring skills' that he has mastered this past week:

This must somehow tie into what his dad is doing back there in the Family Room.

After dinner and a bath someone had just had enough:

He always drifts into sleep so effortlessly and sweetly. Bully for 'good-dreamers'!

Maxim tried to get into my pants by sporting a feather boa and singing 'Eurotrash Girl' to me:

(Duh...it worked...)

I couldn't share photos of 'certain things', so here's the mantel above my bed:

There are a dozen of those candle holders lined up across there as straight as three children, a husband, and one fledgling dog will allow.

I have everything ready to go for when I bolt out the door in the morning:

Because it is my tendency to jump out my ass in a disorganized fashion. Need I remind you that I am NOT a morning person? Quadruple-digits on the clock, 'member?

It's oh-dark-thirty....

....and I still have an assload of image files to upload.

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