Went for a drive last Saturday afternoon.

I'd noticed some property on a drive to San Saba through the country. Turned out to be a bit beyond our means. $650,000. Nice place though.



On the way, we found a cool little subdivision near Lampasas called Fawn Acres. So guess what we see when we drive in?



Actual Fawns. I asked Denise, "How cool is it that they have actual Fawns in Fawn Acres, and they bring dinner right to ya?" She hit me.



Yep, them's good eatin'!

Speaking of eatin', we decided to try a newish place for dinner that night.



I say newish. We'd been to Eve's before, for lunch, but we'd never tried their dinner menu.



It's a cute little place, situated right on the square, across from the county courthouse.



I tried all sorts of angles, once we ordered our food, tryin' to get shots of all the crap they have hangin' on the walls and ceiling.



Turns out I had OODLES of time to get good shots. They had some sort of mix-up back in the kitchen and we ended up waiting about an hour for our food.



Oodles of time. I started drinking diet Dr Pepper, but then graduated to a Negra Modelo.



When the salad finally came, I was so friggin' hungry I just consumed it, and didn't get to take a picture till it was over. Trust me, it was good.



In time, my Kaseschnitzel (schnitzel with ham and Swiss cheese melted over it) was delivered...



And Denise's Jegerschnitzel, we were both VERY ready to eat. We both ordered extra fries because they told us they'd run out of green beans. It was NOT a good night for Eve's. The owner was very apologetic. In the end, after I paid the ticket, we got up to walk out and she called to us from the back, "Don't leave, don't leave!"



She gave us a complementary slice of strawberry cheesecake. It was wonderful, and a nice surprise. In the end, Denise and I agreed that the food was wonderful, and that we would be back.

You wanna look at a few more shots of the place, click here. Cheers!

Went to a gig last Thursday in Waco with a buddy of mine.

My buddy Glenn emailed me early in the week, tellin' me about the show. It was a free concert with local talent, set up at the Bosque River Stage. That's a cool little venue that's connected to McLennan Community College, in Waco. They put on a series of concerts every summer, down by the river.



Glenn's wife is the sales director at a local TV station, and is having to work late these days. Issues at the station. Denise wasn't interested (not into Jazz), so Glenn and I made plans to meet up, have dinner somewhere and go to the gig ourselves. No reason why the boys can't play.

It turned out to be a great time. First, we had Chinese food at a little place called Pei Wei, which is like a low end version of P.F. Chang's China Bistro. I'd never eaten at one of these, or at Chang's, so it was cool to explore. It turned out to be great, but I think I prefer Dynasty's version of the Generals Chicken.



After eating, we drove over to the show just in time to see the MCC Faculty Jazz Ensemble start their set. That's Dick Gimble there in the black shirt. He's Johnny Gimble's son, and a great local musician.



The music was wonderful. I was really surprised to hear how well these dudes played, as they ran through a set of old jazz and swing classics. Here's a little video I captured at the show. Enjoy



Like I said, the music was great. Or problem was with the audience, or more specifically, the assholes who were sitting right behind us. What's up with people these days? Is it us, or are folks just rude as hell? They sat down behind us and proceeded to have a full blown conversation while we were trying to enjoy the music. You tell me. Isn't that not only rude as hell to the people sitting around you, but also to the band, who are trying their best to put out great music for people to enjoy?

Glenn put up with it for a while (they were sitting right behind him), but eventually he turned around and asked them to go somewhere else if they wanted to get reacquainted. They were completely shocked, saying "It's an outdoor concert," as if he was the inconsiderate and rude one for getting upset. They implied that the nature of the show would excuse the fact that they were having to talk louder than the music to hear one another, which meant that everyone else was able to hear them as well as the band.

I'm tellin' ya, ya wanna just slap the shit outta some white folks sometimes. Feel me?



The main gig that night was a pleasent surprise. I'd thought we were just gonna see the Jazz Ensemble, but Glenn told me when we got there that the second band was gonna be a great little band from Denton called Brave Combo.

After a short break, which gave Glenn a chance to go get his camera, and he and I a chance to relocate closer to the action (tryin' to avoid the assholes... It didn't work. There were more down close), the Combo began playing their special brand of jazz/polka, party music. It was cool as hell. Here's a taste.



These guys are very into audience participation, particularly by kids. They set up their stage with everything shoved over to the left, so then the whole right side of the stage was open for dancers from the audience. Once they started playing, they welcomed folks down from the seats to dance and join in the Conga Line, the Chicken Dance, the Hokey Poky, and lots of other shit that I don't do.

What's the Chicken Dance you ask? Here you go.



Yea, Audience participation. I'm the dude there in the folding chair, thinkin' "Fuck you, I ain't doin' it." Been plagued by self-consciousness all my life. Whether it came from always being the huge, hulking dude in the room, or whatever, I don't know. I've always wanted to hide, rather than jump in and have fun. It's like it's in my DNA, keeping me from joinin' in on such foolishness. Of course, it keeps me from havin' a hell of a lot of fun too.



Glenn sat through some of it, but eventually had to jump in for this. Here's a shot of the Chicken Dance as we experienced it that night. Three concentric rings of revelers. Notice the dude in the suit. Yer thinkin' "Secret Service?" or maybe "Men in Black?" No, it was the short bus folks.



Yea, apparently someone drove in with about six or eight "special needs" folks, all HUGE fans of the music, one of whom decided to get all gussied up for the show. I figured it was probably their house mother, who probably entertains them with this sort of fun music. There were several of them, easily discernible from the other revelers, but there was only one guy in a suit. That's him there on the left, menacing the keyboard/guitar player/singer, Carl Finch, who founded Brave Combo in 1979.

I was initially amused by the show these special needs folks put on, getting right up close to the band and doing that special, spastic dance they do. It was hilarious to me. I'm ashamed to say that I was laughing at them for a while, if only silently to myself. But then my feelings quickly changed. As the music moved them, along with many of the other folks in the audience, especially the little kids, the special needs folks displayed a complete freedom to get up and join in, being totally care-free, they were easily consumed in the fun of it all.

Meanwhile, crippled by self-consciousness, I could never muster the courage to be that free. I was sitting there, proud of them in the end, and a bit envious. I wonder what it'll ever take to get me out of that folding chair, and fully into the fun that life offers? I guess I'm just an idiot.

Anyway, the show was fun. I drove Glenn home and then drove on home myself. It was a blast. We'll do it again. We've got tickets to the first day of the ACL festival in October. We're lookin' forward to that, but there'll probably be another gig down there by the river before the summer is out. Cheers!

Last Friday was a busy day.

First, I slept in (my summer schedule ROCKS) till about 9am. Then I drove to San Saba for my last Friday make-up day, making up for the fishing trip a while back. All I had to do was give a test, and it was a bitch of a test. The inmates (loosers) were pissin', lookin' up to me and askin' "Why do you do this to us?" I was like, "That's why they call it a TEST, motherfuckers." I love my job.

Thing is, the guards knew I needed to get out of there before count. I'd earlier told them I had a medical thing to get to. So they let me out early, as soon as the guys finished their test. I was out of there by 1:30pm, rather than 2:40, and home in plenty of time to change into some shorts and get to the hospital.



Then it was like this. "Step up on this scale." Yep, still 311lbs., and my blood pressure, and my temperature, and then "Here, change into this gown. Now, sit here and wait."



I checked out the implements of destruction, all laid out for the doctor. I checked out all the little labels on the drawers, particularly the one that said "Anal Scope." Jezus...



And then I waited some more...



And then some more. In all, about fifteen minutes. Not long in retrospect.



Here's the issue at hand, there between my fingers. I've had this cyst for many years. When I first realized it was there, the doc told me what it was, and that it's not cancerous. But it's annoying as hell sometimes. I end up sleeping on it now and then and wake up with a sure neck.



In time, the procedure began. They decided to sit me in the chair and have me lean over the bench. The nurse (who took these pictures, and did a wonderful job) swabbed the area to be cut, and then shaved it. The doc then gave me a shot to deaden the area.



Long story short (and many more pictures, which are all available here), in the space of 40 to 45 minutes or so, it was mostly over. He'd cut out the offending cyst...



Which ended up looking more like a big greasy, snotty lugy to me...



And he'd sewn up the hole, giving me a few stitches inside the hole to aid in healing.



That's my doc there, Paul Gerdes, and the nurse who assisted. I never got her name. Shame too. She did a wonderful job assisting, and took some awesome pictures too. Dr. Gerdes is a wonderful physician. I really lucked out when I showed up out of the blue all those years ago and drew him out of the hat.

After everything was done, with my neck bandaged, Denise and I were off to Temple. What, me go home and rest after surgery? Naaaaaa. I had plans. I had to turn in my laundry at the dry cleaners. Plus, it was my turn to pay for dinner, and the girls knew what they were in for.



The cooks at Dynasty were in rare form Friday night. Not only was the Gen. Tso's Chicken excellent, and the Shrimp-fried-rice, but they'd also knocked out some killer fried cream corn nuggets, and those fried chicken wings were wonderful too. Top it all off with an egg roll, and you've got a meal fit for a fat hairy bastard.

After cleaning this plate I went back for more of those corn nuggets. I just can't get too many of those. Then we were off, back to mom's house for an after dinner tipple. By then, the bandage the nurse had stuck to the back of my neck was coming unstuck from my sweat, and the bandage was full of blood. We found some bandages at mom's and replaced the soiled one with a new one, but then it didn't last long ether.

No, we didn't go home after leaving mom's. We needed to go to Sam's. We wandered around there for an hour or so, picking up some essential shit. You know, a HUGE box of Ritz crackers, and a big can of coffee, and a few crates of diet green tea, and a few other things. In the end, I had to re up. Turns out mom had earlier re upped and she'd canceled the card that dad had carried around. That's the one I had. I kept it. It has his picture on it, but now I have my own, $40 later.

After getting out of there, around 9PM, it was time to head home. By the time we got there, my second bandage had come off my neck, again, from my own sweat, and it was also filled with blood. I have some pills and a first-aid kit, but it turned out that all my friggin' pills were expired! I guess I just don't get sick often enough.

I used my most recently expired Tylenol, took two, and let Denise put Neosporin on the wound and then a makeshift bandage. It all worked out beautifully. I slept like a stone Friday night, and then woke up to find the bandage still on , and the wound healing nicely.



This is what it looked like after my shower, Saturday afternoon. It'd been about 24 hours since the cutting, and the wound was healing up nicely. I told Denise it looked like she'd gotten a bit too enthusiastic in the sack, giving me a little love bite. I decided that's the story I'd tell everyone. Well, everyone who isn't reading this blog anyway.

We went out to eat Saturday night too, this time to a little German place in Lampasas. But that's another story. Anyway, I'm healin' up fine. Feel great. There's BBQ ribs in the oven as we speak, cookin' slowly, so you know we'll eat well tonight too. Denise is out sunnin' herself in the back yard, and I'm here, workin' on pictures and doin' laundry. Typical Sunday.

I hope y'all had a great weekend, and that you dads had a great day today. You all deserve it. Cheers!

Happy Father's Day to all the dads I know.

Considering the solemnity of this special day, you'll appreciate the sentiment in this little video.



Yea, that game never really went well for me ether. It's bizarre to me now, but I didn't really enjoy playing Catch with my dad. It was always something he wanted to do, to try to urge me to enjoy athletics, but I never really did. I don't know why. I was always more interested in runnin' in the woods and shooting arrows, both of which bored him to tears. We just didn't enjoy the same sorts of things, so we didn't get along.

I hear stories now about my friends and their fathers, enjoying hobbies with one another and getting along like friends, and it just blows my mind. To me, in those days, my father was my enemy. He was an impediment to me, standing in my way. And yet I loved him, and secretly yearned for his approval. So, when he belittled me and laughed at my hobbies, it hurt me all that much more.

I know now that it must have been very hard for my dad to be my dad. The world I was growing up in was VERY different from the one he'd grown up in, and nothing really worked out the way he thought it would. A saw the confusion in him when I was a kid. We'd be arguing about something, like mowing the lawn or something, usually when I wanted to be out in the woods. He'd say things about how much he and his dad got along, or how much he'd always wanted to work along side his dad, as if to ask me why I wasn't cooperating.

I guess, when it came to being the son he wanted, I failed my father as much as he did me. At least that was the way we thought about things back then. Of course, as we both got older, all of that stupid childhood shit melted away and we grew to love and understand one another deeply. He saw the work and fun I put into my life, and I guess I finally started to see and respect him as the strong, accomplished man that he was.

Now that he's gone, I miss my daddy terribly. I cry sometimes when I think about those days when I used to drive over to get him, to take him out to eat Chinese food on Friday nights. I'd roll up in front of the house and he'd be slowly hobbling out to meet me.

He'd have a huge grin on his face, waving and calling to me, saying something like "Hey sunshine!" I used to look forward to seeing him all week long. We both did. If you'd told me I would ever feel that way about him when I was a kid, I'd have told you you were crazy. Funny how things turn out.

So, all you dads out there, have a great day! I have so much respect for you. I know it's a hard job to grow up yourself, so you can bring up a kid. The thing is... Please, for me, always try to remember. It can also be terribly hard to be a son. Terribly hard.

If everything works out right, you'll both love and respect one another. But if things aren't going well, all I can say is that in time, both of you will probably grow up, and wise up, and maybe you'll be able to enjoy the friendship my daddy and I had in the end. Believe me, it's somethin' to shoot for.

Cheers!

35 years ago this weekend...

This shit scared the living piss out of me. Seriously. I didn't sleep well for about a month.



I think it's the scariest opening scene in any movie I've ever seen. Too bad there's not a better version on Youtube.

I was 14, horny as hell, sittin' in the theater thinkin' "Holy shit, what a smokin' hot chick. What a lucky bastard." And then... Damn you Stephen Spielberg. Damn you.

Friday stuff, and stuff.

I have to go to San Saba today. It's the last make-up day for the week I spent fishing in Canada. No lecture today though. Just giving them a test, so maybe I'll be able to get out a bit early. I need to, seeing as how I'm supposed to be at the Scott & White hospital in Killeen at 3:45 for an operation.

Yep, I'm getting cut on today. I've had a cyst on my neck, where my back and neck meet, for years. It usually doesn't bother me, but Denise has been asking me to have it removed, and every now and then I sleep on it in such a way that I end up with a neck ache in the morning.

The doc says it's no big deal. It's not cancer or anything. But he says it's the sort of thing that will grow back if they don't get every little bit of it. The last time I went in to see him, I told him I'd like to have him cut it out. So, this afternoon, around 4PM, I'll be leanin' over the bench in his office, or somewhere. and he'll be carvin' away. You wanna see what it'll look like when I get cut on, click on this video. I warn you though, stay the hell away from those other zit related videos. Mmmmm, nasty. And by the way, mine should be about eight or ten times the size of that kids.

Also, I know you'll be shocked by this, but I've decided to have the doctor or his assistant take a few pictures of the procedure. You know, before, during and after shots. Denise is gonna drive me to the hospital, thinkin' that I'll probably be in no condition to drive myself home after. But I KNOW she's not gonna sit in on the procedure.

Talk about a weak stomach, Sheesh. All I have to do is start to say the word PUS and she's headed for the porcelain alter. I tell ya, it's almost as fun as chasin' her around with a rubber snake. So, she's talkin' about drivin' me. We'll see. As of now, I plan to be fully conscious and eating large quantities of Chinese food from Dynasty a few hours after the fact. It's my turn to pay, so Denise and Mom both know where they're goin', and that stuff is too good to pass up.

Anyway, Y'all be cool and check in regular for the bloody pictures. I can't wait to show 'em to ya. Cheers!

Remember, Mom is about 83, and she's not good with techniligy.

Had to go to Mom's house Monday night, after getting back from San Saba. She'd surprised me earlier that morning, as I drove to work, calling me on her cell phone. She NEVER uses it. Got it the same time I got my razor, but barely knows how to turn it on, mostly because she never DOES use it, so you can see why it surprised me.

Anyway, turns out she'd dropped her cordless land line, and it wasn't working any more. People were calling here and she couldn't answer the phone. See, she doesn't know how to operate that one ether. There's a button she could push to answer calls from the base unit, but she doesn't know which one it is. Mom's got as thing with technology.

So, bottom line, I needed to go to Temple and sort things out. I told her I'd get up early on Tuesday and come over, but then I got to thinking about it. Since I'm in my summer schedule, who wants to get up early? So I called Denise, who was still at work at 8PM when I was leaving San Saba, and told her what was going on. I asked her if she wanted to make a trip to Temple. She did, so I told her I'd swing by the house along the way.

Turned out it took me about 30 seconds to fix the phone. Took the back off the battery compartment on the hand unit and pressed on the battery connection. Lights came on and everything worked. It' had simply become dislodged when she'd dropped it on the carpeted floor. Done deal. Then I cleared all the messages from her base unit, letting her listen to them all.

Most of the messages were from our cousin Sue, down in Houston. Sue calls mom every day, just about. Kind of a pain in the ass, but she's just about all the family mom has now. She'd been calling mom all day, worrying why she couldn't get hold of her. Mom had called me later in the afternoon, while I was in the library in San Saba. She told me Sue was drivin' her crazy, and did I have her number?

Turned out that all the numbers we had for Sue were old, disconnected numbers, so we couldn't call her to tell her mom was fine. This fear, that Sue would drive up to check on mom, is what drove me to decide to go ahead and go to mom's that night.

Anyway, after the drama with her land line was cleared up, Sue called again, and mom could tell her about all the mess that had gone on. We got her correct number in the process, and I made sure to put it on my phone. I checked mom's cell and we found Sue's correct cell number in there, in Received Calls. It just wasn't marked. The number that was marked as Sue's was wrong. I fixed all that, and then I sat mom down and showed her how to bring up recent callers on her cell and redial the numbers.

Anyway, after all that, mom apologized for not having anything to feed us. I told her it was no big deal, and then she offered us all a beer. We ended up sitting there, laughing, drinking a beer with mom, while she told us how much fun it had been to use her cell phone. After a while, I looked over at Denise and we mutually decided it was time to go home.

We ended up gettin' home at about 11:30 that night. made for a LONG day. But it was fun, and it's always good to see my momma.

Anyway, gotta go to work. Gotta take the scenic rout today. They're workin' on the bridge over the Colorado, just as you get into San Saba county. So I have to take the longer, twisty rout past Colorado Bend State Park. Cheers!

No rest for the weary.

Not only did I have to drive to San Saba on Friday, to make up for one of the days I missed fishin' the other week, but there was a Rodeo Parade in San Saba on Saturday. My buddy John and his family were gonna be riding mules (they raise and sell them) in the parade, and then there was gonna be a cook-out at John's place.

I'd told my other buddy Dave, who I teach with in Florence, and he'd pitched the idea that he bring a few of his horses up and that we both ride with John in the parade. Best laid plans...



It turned out that Dave had truck trouble, and couldn't haul his horses all the way to San Saba. He could have brought one, but that wouldn't have been as much fun, so we ended up just planting our folding chairs under some tall trees by the big bank in town and waited for John and them to ride by. As you can see here, he brought his son Ryan, and Ryan's girlfriend Jennifer. Denise came with me, but she's in the witness protection program.



The parade was nice. It wasn't as long and drawn out as the Fourth of July parade in Belton, but it had the same country feel to it.



One of the great things we noticed was as the floats went by, the folks in the trucks would toss candy out onto the street. The little kids would dart out into the road to pick it up. Yea, yer thinkin' "Uh, isn't that unsafe?" Well folks, this here's San Saba, and the whole thing was as safe as can be.



We even had Zorro on patrol, in a rented Batman costume. He was advertisin' a local Mexican food place called Pepperbelly's. Yep, Pepperbelly's. Remember, this is San Saba, out in the middle of nowhere, Hill Country of Texas, and folks are less likely to be easily offended. And you know, if they are offended, they get over it.



Eventually, John (far right) and his mules came near. The wagon with the yellow wheels was going to advertise the liquor store that he and his wife Elizabeth own.



But when the time came for the money shot, my camera's auto-focus pooped out on me. I had a hell of a time with my old camera Saturday. You can see in some of these shots, an unfocused haze around the edges of the shot. Pissed me off no end, and made me wish I'd remembered to bring the new one.



All I got was a clear shot of his mule's ass as he rode on, after tellin' us where to meet them after the parade.



We ended up driving out into the country, south of San Saba, and relocating the party to John and Elizabeth's back yard, which is covered by oak trees, shielding you from much of the summer heat.



I walked around and got a few pictures like this one, from a flower in one of their little ponds. It's a beautiful place, with all sorts of animals runnin' around. There were dogs, cats, chickens, guinea fowl, goats, llamas, mules and horses. And that was just a hint of the number of animals they have out there. What with bein' a full time guard out at the prison, AND runnin' the liquor store in town, now I really see why John is always so damn busy.



While we just sat around talking, I took my crock pot full of queso into the kitchen and heated it up, and Denise whipped up a batch of her Southern Comfort Punch. While we ate and drank, John got the fire going. After a while, the rest of the family arrived. The conversations became more animated, and John started heating up the corn.



Once the corn started to heat up he started cookin' the burgers. Now and then he'd draw his hand back quickly and shake it. The heat from the fire was singing his hand. I thought at the time, he needs a longer set of tongs. I told him, he needs a friggin' pool too. It would'a been nice to sit in some cool water and watch him burn himself cookin' my dinner. Not sure if he understood the subtle wisdom there.



I tell ya, the burgers and tater salad were wonderful, and the corn-on-the-cob was wonderful too.



After everyone finished eating, the conversation shifted away from what Dave and I do for a living to "Lets ride some mules." Dave really wanted to get up on one. You see that unfocused haze at the top of the shot? Man, I was pissed.



Before you know it, just about everyone was mounted up and headed for the back 40, or in this case, the back 100.



Dave was mounted up, as were Ryan and Jennifer. I wasn't dressed for riding, having worn shorts and sandals to the parade. Plus, I was red as a beat from the sun and pooped. Well, let's say I had to turn the car keys over to Denise. I was in no condition to ride, and Denise didn't want to. Hasn't in something like 20 years. Anyway, it'd been a long, hot day, and Denise and I were both ready to go home.

So, as the others explored the back country of John's ranch, Denise and I packed up the goods and headed home. It was a nice drive, seein' as how I could drift off now and then and not have to worry about runnin' off the road.

All in all, it was a wonderful way to spend the day. I hope that John, Dave and everyone had as much fun as I did. It was great to see their cool house and ranch, and the wonderful menagerie of critters they run. It was nice meeting Elizabeth's family too. If you want to see more shots of the parade, the people and the critters, click here. Cheers!

Fishin' stories.

Finally gettin' around to posting this stuff. It's been a busy week, and it's not over. I have to go to San Saba tomorrow, and next Friday, to make up for the classes I missed last week when I flew to Syracuse NY to go fishing with my cousin Bob and the guys.



I fly in and they drive by from Pensylvania the next morning and pick me up on the way to Gananoque, Canada. It's always great to see Bob again. You can get a great feel for our relationship from this little video.





The lake is beautiful, and the fishing is usually good.



We upgraded to a little nicer cabin this time, paying a little extra for a place right down by the water and the dock.



The food is always great too. I knoiw, you're thinkin' "hotdogs and mac-n-chese out of a box?" Yea, but it's all cooked with love! And this is just the first nights meal.



The second night we had Pike filets (from two decent sized fish the guys had caught), and more mac-n-cheese out of a box (LOVE that stuff).



The third night we had steak and baked potatos cooked on the grill, and the last night we had chili. So, as usual with anyone in my direct vascinity, we ate well!



We fish hard when we go on these trips... Up early and out on the water, back for lunch, then out again till dinner, and then out again till sunset. But in the meantime, we relax. We're probably better at that than we are at fishing. Well, I am anyway. And when we relax by the shore, there are usually critters there to join us.



This Blue Heron is a regular visitor. When it's not taking Chipmunks or Bluegills from near the water, it's wolfing down scraps from out table.



A few Seagulls even joined in on the fun. And we even had another little visitor who slithered by a few times.



We even saw this one, or one like it, slitherin' across the lake towards out dock one day.



Of course, we also love the scenery up there (click on this one, or any of the others, for the larger version). The natural beauty of the place is amazing to behold.



There's nothin' like slowly drifting down a river, lookin' for just the right spot to wet a hook.



When it comes to bringing in a good fish, there's no tellin' how many hundreds of casts can go into each catch. But in the end, it's all worth it. Now and then, the gods reward your patience.



Like last year, I didn't catch too many big ones this time. But nether did the other guys, so I didn't feel so bad. I caught enough to have a great time, and that's what really matters.



Anyway, most of the fun I derive from these trips is found in the quiet times, sittin' around after a great meal with a cigar in one hand and an adult beverage in the other, or a spare brat, solving all the worlds problems with my friends.



Eventually, sadly, the time always comes to hit the road for home. I Hate that road, but I also look forward to the welcome home I'll get from my special little lady. And then I look forward to the next years adventure. We've been coming up here for a long time, and there's no sign of it ending. In a few years, it'll all be made that much more special when Bob's Grandson (Scot's son) Gabe gets old enough to join us.



Sunday morning, after paying the bill, we drove back into the USA and back to Syracuse, where my return flight was awaiting me. Who knew the return flights would be so screwed up by this very rainy weather? I didn't get home until almost 4AM Monday morning, but that's another story.

The trip, Gananoque 2010, was a wonderful time. If you want to see more pictures and captions, click over here. Enjoy. Cheers!