Happy Halloween!

Hope your trick or treating leaves you with a silly, Smarties-induced grin.

Talk soon,
Heather

proof is in the...well...schnapps, I guess

A few days ago, I was reminiscing about that time in Germany, when my friends and I were drinking schnapps out of little bottles.  And posing for pictures with the caps on our noses?

So, yeah.  I found that picture last weekend.  And I just feel the need to put my money where my big bloggy mouth is.

Here you go:

I will note that even in a foreign land, schnockered on foreign spirits, the future Proper Paige knew better than to have her photo taken with a bottle of alcohol (of any size) hanging out of her mouth.

[Takes bow.]

Hope your photos are only moderately incriminating today.

Talk soon,
Heather

a call to arms (or hands, specifically)

Jack's (awesome) school sent this picture recently.  He's working on his letters.  You know, as we do.

And I was quick to note how dark his hair is getting and how he's totally left-handed.  JUST LIKE HIS MOMMA.

And to that, I say:

Hope you feel some solidarity today.

Talk soon,
Heather

the one in which we leap tall curbs in a single bound...

I've dressed up as Wonder Woman for Halloween before.  It was sort of during Durel and my courtship.  I'm sure Emily, Sean, Sally, and Okie Roy remember that evening very well.  Clay might remember, too.  Other than that, we shall leave it in the annals of history.

This year, I will be dressing up as Wonder Woman for Halloween again.  I will not be wearing the same costume I wore 12 years ago.  Nope.

I will be wearing a cool-yet-mom-appropriate costume.  Because, after all, I am Superman's mom (new origin story; take note).

I am not really cool enough to know what origin stories are.
Durel totally taught me the term.

We debuted our costumes for the Fall Festival at Jack's school last week.  There were hot dogs, cake pops, frozen yogurt, a bouncy slide thing, a band, and games in every room.  Jack's school does not mess around.  It was completely awesome.   (There was also a silent auction, where we bought things.  It really was fun for all ages.)

And, with one more origin story being shredded with disregard by our family, Durel was super, too.  He brushes off comparisons to Hugh Jackman.  Okay, Wolverine.  

This photo was taken with Durel's insanely awesome
Windows phone.

Anyway, Jack and his buddies got down to business.  Who needs a mosh pit when you can stand on a hay bale?  And, I mean, the SWAT team is already there, so you know it was NUTS.

And, it was nuts.  SuperJack danced, bounced and slid, ate hot dogs with wild abandon, gamely posed for pictures, played games, zoomed around with his cape streaming behind him, and only melted down at 8:30 when we informed him, gravely, that it was time to go home.

Even supers have their limits, you know.

Hope you zoom around like a super today.

Talk soon,
Heather

Enter the Lederhosen

Somewhere, there is a picture of me at an Easter bonfire in Hannover, Germany.  I think the year was like...1998.

I am moderately intoxicated and cheesing it up for the camera with several friends.  We all have little white things on our noses.  Those little white things are the caps of our little mini bottles of schnapps, which we were drinking by gripping the neck of the (tiny; like vanilla extract size) bottles between our teeth and tipping our heads back.

They told me, my friends, that you have to take a picture with the cap on your nose.

So, we did.

In the fifteen years that have passed since then, I have matured considerably.  (She said, convincingly.)  I am 100% sure that I would definitely still drink schnapps that way at an Easter bonfire in Germany.   No doubt.  

But in contrast, I will also take Jack to a Hill Country Oktoberfest to make sure he's adequately exposed to his roots.  And their sartorial history.

Enter the Lederhosen.

This is Jack at the recent Oktoberfest in Fredericksburg, Texas.

He is wearing a vintage pair of grey suede Lederhosen that, I believe, were purchased by my dear departed grandparents in Germany in the 1950's as a gift for my brother, who was then a wee bairn.  (We're Scottish, too.) (Yes, we're spaced out quite a bit.)

Let's just say that the fans were a little gaga over that sweet guy in his Lederhosen.  We bought the hat at the festival, and it definitely added some snap to his outfit.  The little bear is also in Lederhosen.  We named him Freiderich von Lederhosen, but Jack has taken to calling him "Freeder" for short.

Hope your outfit really reflects who you are today.

Talk soon,
Heather