After Grandma P's funeral Friday, Team Testosterone drove to Iowa for Mr. D's annual golf weekend with friends and family. I caught up with them on Saturday, returned home Sunday (because I had to retrieve Jax from doggy daycare) and then Team Testosterone returned home Monday--with a couple cousins in the mix! So, all week I have the company of Mr. T, Mr. B, Mr. J, Mr. G and Mr. B--FIVE boys, ages 9-16. Or as I like to call them, little devils.
Right now they caught some crawfish from the creek and Mr. T lit a fire in the pit so they can cook them for lunch. Oh hush, I tossed them a package of hot dogs and a bag of buns to supplement the crawfish lunch. They also have stuff to make s'mores. I'm not heartless. On the crawfish front, they really don't know what they're doing, but it's pretty entertaining to watch. They also get muddy, swim it off, get muddy again, snack, fight, shoot airsoft guns, fight, swim, play with spray paint, fight, fish, fight and eat some more. Will it be a long week? Perhaps. I tried to book some activities to balance the "togetherness" so nobody ends up with a bloody nose (though we have a wasp sting thus far and a blister). Tonight we'll go to a Timber Rattler game, tomorrow the EAA museum, Thursday Door County to play in Lake Michigan. Consequently, I won't be writing much this week.
|Team Testosterone, two cousins, one neighbor kid|
They're actually pretty good kids--I just had to place some limits on FIRE and FISTS and BB GUNS. The real joy is watching the memories they're making together.
And speaking of little devils, the book giveaway! Fellow EcoWoman and bloggy pal Kim Kasch has her debut YA novel out! Demon's Ink is fresh off the press and I'm sending one to a lucky commenter!
Drake and Bartos come to the Pacific Northwest, where they open yet another tattoo shop but Bartos has no trouble dealing with the competition because there’s nothing normal about his art. And he’s stealing more than clients from the local skin artists. He's stealing their souls.
Customers fall in love with Bartos Slinderman’s tats but end up paying the ultimate price for their purchase because unlike Oscar Wilde’s Dorian Gray, they can’t walk away from this art and it’s beautiful until the artwork takes on a life of its own...
Sounds wickedly good, doesn't it? My body's a tat-free zone (mainly because I was flat broke when I was young and thought it might be a cool thing to do), but I think that's an interesting comment topic. I've seen some gorgeous tattoos, ill-chosen tattoos, ugly ones, frightening ones and sweet ones, but ultimately there is nothing I love enough to imprint it permanently on my skin so I never got that Chinese-style dragon on my right shoulder blade (again, before you judge, I was twenty when I thought that was a good idea).
Spill it, reader. Any ink on your skin?