everything else in between.

Just a little ditty about the rest of our summer, mostly pictures I want to show you and short stories I want to share. Remember? I'm a giver. And by giver, I mean taker. Really, I'm taking time out of your life for so little.

Basically, everything in this post falls into one of two categories: things that couldn't hack it in their own post OR things that happened during my three-week-temper-tantrum where I stopped blogging and almost lost all my friends (not because of the meltdown, but because of the not blogging -- I write so they have something to do at work, true story).

Here goes nothing.

Right after school ended, we went back to The Trampoline Place (also known as Skyhigh Sports, but really, my name is so much more descriptive). The cousins were in town and we promised a trip back to that place. It went so well the time before, why not?

Here's why not. I'm old. I mean, relatively, no. But compared to 15 year old Mark, yes. Apparently, I had used up my only "go trampolining without repercussions" life allotment.

I successfully did many, many flips (you may remember my struggles from last time or not, because why?), but after a while, I wasn't feeling so right. Turns out, I channel Dorothy when I flip and click my heals together. Repeatedly. Over and over. Again and again.

This was my ankle.
I managed to keep that parting gift from mid June to mid August. Every time I put on my heels this summer, it was a little beacon of warning: you aren't that young anymore.

Next story.
Chuck has been dying to try paragliding. Dying. DYING. And what's more, the guy's a little obsessive about it. He knows all about it. The places around here. The launch sites. The "who's who" in the paragliding world: Pacific Northwest version. Drives me crazy.

So he goes hiking one afternoon. Heads up the traditional paragliding trail because he wants to "watch". I kid you not. Watch people paragliding. Oh, yeah, my idea of a good time.

Anywhoozie, while he's up there he overhears a group of newbies being coached on their first jump. They take off and the instructor sees Chuck peeping on them. So, he asked Chuck if he wants to ride down.

And Chuck did it.
He jumped off a mountain strapped to a complete stranger.

Who does this?

I'm going to say it again as it went.
"Do you want to jump off this mountain with me?"

Look how happy he is.

Off a mountain.
With a stranger.

In Chuck's defense (which I so rarely come to), he recognized the instructor from the "who's who" of paragliding. The man is such a legend the trail they were standing on that day is actually named after him. So there. It still doesn't change the jump off a cliff issue much.

And now, a few more pictures and captions.

Lucy and I had Baby's Big Beach day in July. We did a jail break from child prison and headed to the water. And for the record, I will never take a baby to the beach again whilst trying to take pictures with a brand new camera. That was a whole lot of juggling and never again.

She was fabulous though. Even as a bucket head.

Just as a recommendation from Me and My Friends.

Make the Pioneer Woman Cinnamon Rolls. They were so major.

I love a good butter moment, and this did not disappoint. Do you see the butter oozing out? They were ridiculous. And fabulous.

Please make them.
(yes, we are all wearing pearls. When you bake, you wear pearls.)

Oh and finally, I thought you'd like to know that I embraced my inner "Ship's Wheel" on this year's rafting trip.

Rafting trip was a huge success.

Huge sucess.

Dania was mostly the huge part of it. What? I love her. And that little baby came into the world on Monday -- she's a whole lotta precious and we're heading over the mountains to meet her on Saturday. We're busting.

Last thing, Chuck would like to know if this picture makes him look skinny.
Please weigh in on that (pun so intended it's not even funny).

There, that's it. We're done.
R.I.P Summer 2010.
(double fist bump peace sign)

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