melcreada | At some point, you just have to laugh...

So, we left for the coast on Sunday, got back today, and had an okay time EXCEPT:

- Monday afternoon JP slashed his foot open on something sharp in the ocean (you know, the world's TRASH BIN). We got him some antiseptic and band-aids STAT, but that area of his foot has turned red, blue, and purple, so we are a little concerned. He has a doctor's appointment tomorrow.

- Later that night, I got the worst stomach ache EVER and spent most of the evening trying not to hurl instead of kicking back on the balcony with a few cold brews.

Ah, vacation. At this rate, I am positively terrified to go to Arwen's wedding in San Fran next month!!!

In other news, I HAVE AN ADDICTION, PEOPLE:

But ain't they cute???

More poetry because the month is getting on - Bill Holms, speaking of the Icelandic language:

In an air-conditioned room you cannot understand the
Grammar of this language,
The whirring machine drowns out the soft vowels,
But you can hear these vowels in the mountain wind
And in heavy seas breaking over the hull of a small boat.
Old ladies can wind their long hair in this language
And can hum, and knit, and make pancakes.
But you cannot have a cocktail party in this language
And say witty things standing up with a drink in your hand.
You must sit down to speak this language,
It is so heavy you can't be polite or chatter in it.
For once you have begun a sentence, the whole course of
your life is laid out before you

Although it makes no sense, this is exactly how my paternal grandmother used to speak Spanish: deliberately, thoughtfully, and in a tired, soft tone. It was like she was speaking through time. No one else in my family spoke Spanish the way she did.