What time is it in Budapest?

Time for Daddy to go home. I love you, Daddy.

Happy Feet

My beautiful sister, Brenda, treated her daughter Cassie and me to pedicures and lunch today. Pedicure's by Tiffany, lunch by Carraba's. Mmmmm. Can you tell which toes belong to which girl?

Where Does All The Money Go?

Dear God,

Thank you for keeping my baby safe. I'm sorry your angels have had to work overtime watching over her. Remember when she was little and I had her convinced that the car wouldn't run unless the seatbelts were buckled? I hope I'm forgiven for that little untruth. She always wears her seatbelt, it's a habit, and who knows what would have happened if she didn't have it on last Friday. Thank you for giving Allen Breed the smarts to invent airbags. It might have given her a bloody nose, but it also helped keep her from going through the windshield. She walked away from her accident with a couple of bruises because you were watching over her. Thank you. I love her and I'm so glad she's safe.

Love, Lori

Virtual cookie

In case you wanted the visual of the Groundhog Day cookies mentioned by MisterG below, here it is



(photo courtesy of MisterG)

Honor Thy Father

It's Groundhog Day. Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow today, there will be 6 more weeks of winter. Hey - it was 72 degrees today. Bring on more winter!!! A tradition started by Daddy (and followed by the rest of us because we inherited his sick sense of humor), breakfast on this day should be pancakes and sausage. Why? Because sausage is: (go ahead, say it with me) ground hog. So, to honor my father, and because I still don't do breakfast, dinner tonight was pancakes and sausage. Pass the syrup.

First act of independence

My younger baby decided to move out. NOT because life with Mom is excruciatingly painful (or unbearable or anything other than wonderful), but because she wants to be independent. She moved out of the house on Friday morning. On Friday afternoon, she totaled her car. (link to her blog for her version) She's OK, everybody else is OK, the only thing not OK is the poor little Sentra. Welcome to life on your own. It's always something . . . . I heard that somewhere.