For God's sake, it's a Frisbee

Cas wanted to go play Frisbee golf yesterday.  I hadn't thrown a Frisbee since the nineties, so there was an incredibly slender chance I would be any good at it  I will say I finished stronger than I started, though that was like going from a -10 to a -5 on a scale from 1-10.

I tried, though, and eventually, I got my little Frisbee into a thing like this every time.

I was fine with the activity.  It was a nice excuse to walk around a park for a while, but I did stifle a laugh (and choke back a tirade about pretentiousness) at a guy who let us know that Disc Golf is a great sport.  

No.  Nope.  No, sirree.  It's not a disc.  It's a Frisbee.  And this is certainly not a sport.  It's an activity.  I suppose you thing playing dress up is called cosplay and comic books are called graphic novels.  

Nope.  

Late Texas Governor Ann Richards said the following in her keynote speech during the 1988 Democratic National Convention: You can put lipstick and earrings on a hog and call it Monique, but it's still a pig.

Exactly.

It's a family affair

Yesterday, I drove home from work a little earlier than usual and at the maximum speed I could safely manage in the traffic that was there. Cas and I had to get ready to host his dad, his stepmom, his brother, his sister in law and his niece at our house last night.

Cas Sr. and Anne had never seen our house. Any visit at Christmastime was impossible because he had back surgery right around then. Any car or airplane travel at that point would have been pretty miserable.

When everyone arrived, we had fruit salad and fancy cheese out, as well as beer on ice and a self-serve jug of margaritas. There was barbecue from Red Hot & Blue for dinner, because I can cook for six people, but it becomes substantially harder to do after a day of teaching school. 

I did okay, though. I built the fruit salad and I made some killer brownies from scratch for dessert. I also made the margaritas. 

We spent a little time outside before dinner, and this cute-as-heck moment happened: 

Bubbles: two bucks worth of an impulse purchase at the grocery store equals such great entertainment. 

Anyhow, everything on our end went very well. Cas Sr. and Anne loved the house, and it appeared that they were happy with the food and drink. I get the sense that they are happy Cas Jr. chose me, but that isn't one of those questions you ask outright. 

I think we will see about heading to Florida and visiting them either early in the summer or during our break in the fall. Seems like a pretty good idea...

Marksmen

Saturday night was Cas' high school reunion.  He went to St. Mark's, and from what I can gather, the young men who attend that school refer to themselves as Marksmen.  We arrived at a beautiful house and all of the members of the class to 1986 seemed really happy to see Cas.  They all had a chance to catch up, and the guys all went outside to take a group photo.  They came back for dinner, but wound up back outside again.  I took this photo at the end of the evening:

It's a weird picture, but kind of cool looking.  The house was beautiful, though a good deal more extravagant than I could ever see myself occupying.  Of course, we took a selfie.

It seemed like a genuinely nice group of people.  There were some I immediately liked and some I was less impressed with, but nobody seemed particularly bad.  They're just not the kind of folks I am used to.  They all had kids in private schools, which stands to reason, since they had all gone to the same one.  Some of them had kids in very expensive colleges.  The ones who brought dates had these tall-ish, slender, elegant women with them.  I felt like I was probably the only woman in the room who had been working steadily since the age of 16.  

I know it's strange to have a good time at someone else's reunion, but I kind of did.  I was glad to be with Cas.  It was probably good for his old friends to see him so happy.  

Ho and hum

Everything lately has been completely and utterly normal. No news, no fun facts and no change in the holding pattern. The school year is bellowing out its last dying gasps, and I am enforcing a "do not  resuscitate" order with extreme prejudice. 

It was so blah the other day that my weather app decided there was no actual weather.  

That was actually what it said on Friday afternoon when I pulled into a parking lot because the rain was too hard to see the lane markers through. Evidently, there was a severe hailstorm in Wylie, which isn't that far from my house. 

Thank God for completely and utterly normal. 

Box fort!

This was the week that all of our patio furniture arrived at the house. We had a loveseat glider, two chairs, three tables and a large umbrella all delivered to our doorstep. This, of course, brought large boxes into the house with it.

Cas thought about saving a box or two for Zoey to play with. I didn't want two large boxes hanging around the house for that long, so I gave them a death sentence. They had 24 hours to live. After that, they had to get out of the house. He decided to wear one of the boxes and dance around the library. Of course. This is the one I have chosen. 

He did that in the afternoon yesterday, and then we went to the movies. We saw Batman versus Superman, and it was 2 1/2 hours of action-packed superhero movie. Honestly, it should have been a 10 part miniseries. There was just too much happening in that building for one bill.

When we came home from the theater, he had to take a restroom break. That gave me a few moments, so I got out a box cutter and proceeded to dispose of our excessive corrugated cardboard. Of course, the largest box was on the ground, and I decided to cut a door into it. Because box fort. When he came back downstairs, I said, "Look, a door for the box fort." He immediately drop to the floor and crawled in through the door.

Not to be outdone, when he emerged from the box fort, I crawled in. He crawled in after me, and then we took a box fort selfie. Because why wouldn't you? The box fort selfie was an absolute necessity. Enjoy: