freaky friday

**Because I'm going to be in the snowy Rocky Mountains this weekend, cuddled up with a good book and a couple of dogs with my parents and mother-in-law, I'm posting this from the past (woooo).  But I'm still going to call it for Freaky Friday and cross my fingers that nothing noteworthy happens between now and when this posts tomorrow. I mean today.  Whatever. This post will be riddled with verb tense problems.  Just go with it.

Friday the 13th everyone!  I hope yours was a good one.  It's one of my favorites really.  Thirteen is my lucky number.  I met Mr. Bump on March 13, 1999.  We got married on October 13, 2001.  Even after being together for 10.5 years, we're still actually ridiculous enough to celebrate our monthiversary on the months we remember what day it is.  (Yeah, I know, we're disgusting.  Just throw up in your mouth a little bit and move on.)

Nothing really weird happened yesterday except a smallish work computer weirdness which I have attributed to the day just because.  But as a day I enjoy it.  Since we headed up to the Bumpalot together last night, I am sure my father took the opportunity some time today to share his story about my 6th grade science fair project about superstition (lame-ish, I know, but it was on a list of topics and much more interesting than the previous year's Mt. St. Helen's debacle or the year before that's sponge lung project) and the way in which he used the opportunity to mess with my head.  I can't really convey the hilarity he attributes to the story (mostly because I don't find it so much funny at this point) so I'll skip it here.  Let's just say it involved a black cat, a ladder, and a sharp u-turn.  See, even the cryptic details are boring. 

Anyway, Thursday was my father's birthday, so he and my mother came up with us this weekend to celebrate with a little trip to Bumpalot.  I'll have to set aside some books for him because he's a pretty voracious reader when there is no way to watch sports.  He'll read anything.  Last time we were up there he picked up a book of Wodehouse stories.  If you know my father you know he's just about as far from a British comedy of manners kind of guy as exists in the spectrum. He's turning 75 this year, I believe, which is crazy.  I can't believe it's even remotely possibly he's that old.  In part, because he doesn't act his age.  He still works construction, often out of doors, in both the broiling of summer and the freezing wet windy winter.  He's as butch as butch gets, my dad.

I just went in search of a prior post about him, but I haven't tagged most of them so I couldn't find it.  Look through the archives.  It's probably somewhere in 2006.  I also went in search of a picture of my dad, but apparently those are all trapped away on my laptop, which I am not near.  Oh, wait, here he is hiding behind my mother last Easter!  Joy!  Here is my family.  My dad is the Santa in the back.

Happy birthday, Dad!  Incidentally, doesn't my mama look so cute in her pink suit?  She's so smoochable.

Anyway, yesterday is almost over so I need to skedaddle.  Hope you are having a lovely weekend!

What we've been up to for, oh, FOREVER

I'm so proud of this I can't fully express it. But I will say We're Done! We're Done! and it really came out fabulous. I'm so very sorry for not posting, but we've spent every weekend since the middle of April at Bumpalot, where the internet access is spotty at best and I've been covered with various adhesive materials which leave a lovely bit of grit in the bottom of the washer. Anywhoo, we're done and I'm happy and I never want to leave this bathroom again. Please note the fabulous Toto toilet, which I am leaving Mr. Bump for in the near future. I know, gross, right? But the lid slowly closes itself without slamming down.

snowed out - shoed in

What have I been up to, you ask? Well, mostly work and shoveling snow. But this weekend we decided if we can't beat the snow, we might as well revel in it. So we rented snowshoes and came up to Bumpalot. After arriving in the dark and snow, we found one of the pipes down by where we drain down for the winter had frozen (full of water despite the draining) and popped a joint. So after a lot of cursing on Mr. Bump's part, a lot of hover-worrying on my part, and some nervous vomit from the dog for good measure, we just collapsed in our (thankfully) electric mattress pad warmed bed. After a trip to town, some further (under his breath this time) cursing from Mr. Bump, some fabulous plumbing repairs executed by the Best Husband Ever, we had water at about 11:00 am! Never was I so happy to take a shower. Now I remember what I dislike about camping. Though we were hardly roughing it, we didn't have a flushable toilet and very little water to make tea! We were roughing it, really.

Anyway, after an eventful and exciting 18 hours, we settled in for a healthy 4 day weekend. We saw wildlife:

Elk at the pond in front of Bumpalot

and

Bunny! Oh Bunny!

But mostly what we did, besides making Rice Krispie treats and tearing through several books, was snowshoe out of our front door into the snowy loveliness. Here, I can prove it:

Glamorous, ain't I?

Actually, you can see the house behind my right shoulder.

Further proof:

Mr. Bump, Plumber Extraordinaire

So, this is the shape the fun we've had has taken. Oh, and I do want to give a shout out to a fabulous new purchase which we've gotten a lot of mileage out of. Oh, Zojirushi, will we ever know the limits of your extravagant decadence? Hot cocoa in the woods when you're somewhere between sweaty and exhausted and cold and cranky? Oh hell yeah.

So come on out--we can hook you up with snowshoes, piping hot cocoa and some genuine wildlife in the front yard. And I'll even break trail.



P.S. If this wonderful winter wonderment isn't enough to make you want to come visit (I'm looking at you, Mrs. Arnold) then I give up. We'll hoard it selfishly. More cocoa for us.