Floatin' The Hooch

You know how long I've been waiting to write that title? Laura told me of this mysterious "Hooch float" that her brothers do, and I'd be remiss if I were to not take advantage of our visit south and see what all the hoopla was about for myself.



An early day, for this week at least, Kevin & I arrived a little before Brian and headed down to the river to get a beginner course on fishing under my belt. And waders be damned, I hopped right out into that 50 degree water and cast away.



We didn't catch anything there. Let's blame it on the fog. I don't know how that would make any sense but in a world were I found myself waist deep in a river with a fishing pole in my hand, anything was possible.



Brian arrived and we headed to the dam at the top of the river by Lake Lanier. I was skeptical at first, with the raft and the flippers and the waders and the fishing pole. Skeptical that I wouldn't end up face to face with some river bottom rock beds. But a moment or two or three of repositioning and weight redistribution I felt reassured and began to cast away.



A few welcome stopping points along the way gave a chance for some drying out in the sun and regaining feeling in my lower extremities. There were some photo worthy moments, that none of us could resist.




The faint purpose behind the trip was to catch fish, and as I had great doubts about my own ability to snare a sweet rainbow trout, even seasoned floaters Brian & Kevin could barely come up with any river meat. They managed to rile up a couple and I was there to catch the action.




And as for me, well I did in fact catch myself a little guy. I think it caught me more by surprise than it did him. But you'll be glad to hear that he's been re-released into the wild and will have to explain why he was late getting to wherever he was going.



Adventure!

Please Don't Feed The Mothers

Live From Knee Deep

Not dead yet

Three Meals A Day

Is it really weird that I take photos of my food? Is it that I have a camera with me at mealtime? Or is it that I take a brief moment out the meal to reach for it? Is it because it's such an everyday occurrence and therefore not warranting any kind of special recognition? Or are you just an enemy of food documentation? What is it?

Breakfast: buttermilk waffle & grits @ Waffle House



Lunch: hamburger & fries @ the Varsity



Dinner: Asian beef @ Golden Corral

It All Came Back To Me

Laura had an appointment with the infamous Dr. Jeff yesterday to take care of some basic pregnancy issues like weazing, charlie horses, magnesium deficiency and just generally being a tubby butt. Since her Mom wanted to go with her I took the opportunity to drive down to my old stomping grounds. I headed down 41, being almost completely lost til I got to the Big Chicken thanks in part to the rapid expansion and betterment of the strip malls and storefronts. I'm not falling for it Georgia.


Georgia is confusing for consumers

But I did manage to make it down to Windy Hill and travel my old route, tho I was on the phone with Eric Babula half the time trying to come up with scenarios for the murder game that I am completely absent for. They can't live without me.


I've begun to take notice.

I got a quick call back to Doctor Jeff's and then we headed over towards Town Center, the Marietta mecca, because Cheryl had to buy some new perfume. Who knew she was a juicy couture girl. Laura then felt that baby needed some greasy food, so when you're in Atlanta, there's only one place to go. The Varsity.


Mother & daughter alike.


A V can't cover me.

And then because Laura has some sob story about how back in Pennsylvania they run ads on TV for Golden Corral buffet, yet there isn't one for 170 miles around and now that we're so close being down in Georgia we owe it to her.


And what would it be without a group shot outside by the sign?

So far today is about rest, Glee & volcanoes, not in that order. Later on we may get out in the sun, but we're in no hurry.

Good Shower Though

Baby showers are a weird thing. I don't know that I should've been involved in one. I wasn't very good with the games. The names I came up with were inappropriate (Bartlebee & Tevia). But it was nice to see some old girls, some we hadn't seen in years. Everyone looks good and seems happy. We learned of them becoming lawyers and historians and tiramisu chefs and cat-opera directors... and we couldn't be happier for them. Good shower though.

Dave made his famous watermelon cart. We made sure to be careful with it because this is what we will be using the first few months to push her around in.


Asriel made us a diaper cake. Delicious and half the fat.


And there was food.


Laura gives it a thumb up.


This is the shower part.


Social hour began.


A girl gathering in a round.


Madison & I entertained ourselves in the meantime.


Two showers down, one to go.

Swimming South Of Sunny

We survived the trip down. More importantly, Sexy Bird survived. Now she just has to make it back. So far we've done a lot of sleeping, watched a lot of Sunny In Philly, eaten a lot of pizza and made a quick trip to the pool. The baby shower is in full swing. It's cake time so I stepped away briefly to post a few of the weekend so far. But cake is waiting...

the Krupps got birds


Laura tries to keep up with her shadow


I tried to blend in with the Southerners


an intense water park


wet Krupps


Laura takes the baby for her first float


Madison is giving us some practice


class is in session


cake awaits...

Two States Down

three to go

Sexy Bird Returns To Georgia

Well, we leave in the morning. Taking Sexy Bird for the long trip down 81 into Knoxville, and then down 75 right into the heart of Acworth and onto the Krupps. Planning to get on the road early and hopefully get in around 7 or 8. That may be wishful thinking. I just hope that the pregnant one has a good ride and doesn't get too uncomfortable. That would make for an unpleasant road trip and nobody wants that. But I have compiled my first version of what I've dubbed the A-list playlist. Over the past couple weeks I've taken the time to accumulate only the best of the best that music has to offer and gather it onto one killer mix and transfer said mix onto my iPod. From A-Camp To Zwan, at press time going 6,013 strong and spanning over 16 days worth of tunes, we could drive there and back 14 times, with no repeats. And maybe we will.

Real plans for our southern excursion include a baby shower, a dinner at an old friends new house, visiting the nieces, a river ride, at least one visit to a Waffle House, an Always Sunny marathon, maybe a tatertot casserole or two, and lots of lots of sleeping past 3am. So bags are packed, we're ready to go...

Can't Get Right

Laura & I switched over to the Detroit/Cleveland game because watching a perfect game from a team you could care less about beats watching your team blow another lead anyday, and just in time for the bottom of the ninth. I got sick to my stomach when that bad call was made. Laura got pissed. I mean seriously angered. I think she made some vague threat towards Jim Joyce's mother. And obviously today at work, it was the hot topic around the water cooler. People had their opinions. Terms like "human element" and "redemption" were tossed about carelessly and I stayed out of it, for the most part. The overall feeling around the world today is that MLB should award Armando Galarraga with a perfect game, but am I the only one missing the point? I think that one of the most important things, maybe the only important thing to someone pitching one of these perfect games, only 20 in baseball history, is the moment it happens in and not the fact that it gets written down in some book on some shelf. Everyone loves to see the celebration, even when it's not your team celebrating, we all love to see the bumrush of the pitchers mound, the arms tossed skyward, the mouths open in elation and the boylike excitement that happens with these things. And if you took that away, at that moment, there is nothing you can do to ever get it back, ever. So what would be the point? I felt for the guy, but if he didn't get the chance to jump into Miguel Cabrera's arms at that very moment, then he's not gonna do it when and if the call is ever overturned. That would be weird.

Oh, and peace out Griffey.

Sunday In Our Yard

Genre Bending

I came across some recut trailers yesterday. Most were pretty ludicrous, but some were kinda funny. It's easy to imagine Willy Wonka as a horror film, but Silence of the Lambs as a love story & The Shining as a romantic comedy where a son finally finds a good home? Radical.

Scary Mary


Shining


Silence of the Lambs


Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory

Ghosts In The Living Room

2 X Laura



3 X Travis



2 X 2