Hiya. Quick note before we get started: if you are like me , and can barely remember to shut the garage door let alone water your plants every day, do yourself a favor and get begonias for all your pretty flowery planting needs. My coworker side-eyed me when I bought a giant flat of these from her daughter’s flower school fundraiser, but little did she know they are pretty much the awesomest plant ever for dumb people. I didn’t water ours for almost a week, yes, like for FIVE DAYS STRAIGHT IN RECORD HEAT, and this is what they looked like. Fresh and pretty as can be! Thank you, begonias, for helping me to fake this grown-up responsible thing.
So, it’s been hot here. I’m totally bitter about it, because part of the perk of moving was to get away from the god-awful Kansas summers. I mean, it’s still sitting pretty about 10 degrees below what Kansas has been getting, but still. Bitter. Friday was extra-yucky with highs near 90 and not a cloud in sight. I only have to work half days on Fridays in the summer, that is usually a ‘date’ afternoon for Pete and I to go run amok, but we didn’t really feel like running around in 90-degree heat. So instead we fled to the movie theater and took in Madagascar 3, buttery tubs of popcorn in hand. Ahhhhhhhhhhh, movies to the rescue. Pete was excited for the song-and-dance number, he is quite the little singer these days, and ever since he has been singing I Like To Move It. Except he thinks the words are “I like the movie”. Meh, close enough dude.
After the movie we headed home, tossed some things in the car (including that darling husband of mine), and off we went to Monroe, Wisconsin, to take in the annual balloon rally. It’s a little under an hour’s drive from us, so we looked up a spot to grab fish fry while there. The place we ended up at was Turner Hall’s Rathskellar. Fish fry and about as Wisconsin as it gets – polka, good beer, total supper club atmosphere. Pete loved the Polka guys and ran over to dance or listen in-between bites of dinner.
I walked out to the dining area to get an overall shot for the blog, saw a flash into my frame as I fired, then heard a squeal and saw something run out of the corner of the frame – yep, Doots. Up to no good. With the squeal I chased him down, it was only later I saw what he did when he photo-bombed me…
Anyhoo, afterwards we had some time until the balloon glow started, so we walked around the downtown a little bit. They are clearly really into pirates here. Also they have a Cheese Fest in September, so I made a mental note to look that up when September rolls around.
Finally we headed for the fairgrounds for the balloon glow. You would think the image below is Pete very excited to see the balloons, but no. That is Pete really excited to watch the carnival rides on the site. It was really windy, so only a few balloon pilots were brave enough to inflate and do the glow. It was kind of a bust. Oh well, we’ll head there again next year.
One balloon pilot was allowing people in the basket for photo ops, so we stepped in for a quick photo. Just made quick small talk before she handed us her card and let the next few people in her basket, and what do you know – she’s based in KC.
Saturday we headed out to our beloved Farmer’s Market – we missed for a few weeks there, which actually kinda bummed us out. I am not sure if it’s because it was one of the first things we did when we got here, or just because it’s so nice (and surprisingly inexpensive), but: we are hooked. It already feels like home. So off we went, got a ton of goodies for the week, and all is well again. Oh – and apparently the Annual Naked Bike Ride went right past, and we missed it. I am not sure if I’m more relieved or kinda bummed…
Um, these giant dahlias were AWESOME, I totally wanted to take one of the plants home. Too bad I am totally inept with plants. The flowers, no lie, were about as big as my head. Wish I knew about those things when I was getting married, just one flower would have made a really cool bouquet.
That was about it for the day – with Sunday being Father’s Day, we had several grand plans so figured we’d lay low and get things done on Saturday. Lots of errands and chores and cleaning. Pete and I did goof off a little bit before dinner, jumping and wrestling on the bed.
Scott made a lovely pasta dish with sausage, white wine, plum tomatoes, and fresh peas from the market. During dinner Pete kinda choked on a piece and got scared and asked me to hold him, and then pretty much emptied his stomach contents from the day all over the place. Um, ew. So our day ended with washing everything in the kitchen (like, EVERY SURFACE) and scrubbing carpets, doing laundry. Pete and I both took long showers. Yay, fun times. Bring on Sunday.
It’s pretty much tradition to have donuts on Mother’s/Father’s Day now. Scott was a little bummed that he wouldn’t be getting his beloved Muncher’s cream cheese donut, so I decided to get his treats instead at the best donut bakery I could find. That ended up being Greenbush Bakery, so this morning Pete and I got up early, dressed, and after he had his morning milk we hit the road. It took about 20 minutes to get there, a nice little drive really. Pulled in, mentally thinking about other things, unbuckled Pete from his car seat. Just as he projectile vomited everywhere. And yeah, sorry, this post should have warnings that I am talking about icky yucky things like barf, but sorry: I got no warning, so you don’t either. So needless to say everything was covered… I wiped up what I could with the stash of glove-compartment napkins, dumped them in the dumpster outside the bakery (sorry dudes who work there), covered Pete with his billy (the only thing in the back seat that was spared, ironically), and rolled the windows down. And made the slow, long drive home to the sound of Pete sobbing that there would not, indeed, be any donuts for breakfast that morning.
So anyway. We got home, I peeled Pete’s clothes off of him in the driveway, and I spent the next few hours cleaning up us, the car, the car seat, the blanket and kitty and all the Gross Stuff straight to the washer. And then after settling Pete in front of cartoons with his dad, I headed back out, determined to save our pretty-much-shot-Father’s-Day. I ran up to Metcalfe’s (our favorite local grocery store) and got Gatorade, oyster crackers, and miraculously: Greenbush bakery goods.
Pete was more than happy to have Gatorade and pretended his crackers were mini cookies. Scott had an apple fritter the size of his head and was a happy dude.
Momo had a nice long hand-wash and then did some sunbathing on the car. It was like going to spa for him, really.
So we didn’t go to Bluephies for lunch, and we didn’t make it to the ever-amazing Ale Asylum‘s father’s day shindig. But Scott got his card and a mini whisk and much much later, when we were pretty certain that Pete was All Better (for real this time), we took him to the mall for some much-needed clothing purchases. Pete was ecstatic, as he loves the mall (his favorite song, no lie, is Robin Sparkle’s Let’s Go To The Mall, which he sings in the car at least once a day).
In other news: he was cool with underwear this afternoon/evening, which was weird and kinda out of the blue but whatever. Hopefully that becomes more frequent.
He also got “a giant boo boo”, aka skinned his knee a wee bit, but of course it was an emergency and of course, one that only Dad could was allowed to handle. Mom sucks with that stuff, it’s like he can smell my blood fear/gross-outedness, so I get the cold shoulder and he will cry until dad comes to his rescue.
Doot’s savior and biggest hero. And in Pete’s own words, “I am happy when my daddy reads to me”.
Happy Father’s Day, honey.