Band on the field
Last night I endured going to a high school football game by myself just to see a tiny Paul (tiny because he was far away) in a marching band uniform.
I loaded up the Thermos with hot chocolate and grabbed a beach towel to sit on (the bleachers are pretty near to absolute zero so one must take measures to put a barrier between one's tush and the coldness of metal forged in the blistering frigidity of outer space). I had my fabulous new Laker jacket (to show my allegiance to the high school team) that was sewn with thread made from rays of the sun (yes, I am waxing metaphoric in this post. Deal with it) to keep me warm too.
Just to take pictures of Paul so you all could see him with a French horn in his hand and a bottle-brush-topped hat on his head.
Here is the band marching into the stadium. I will give ten bucks to anyone who can tell me where Paul is in this picture.
Here he is on the field. He has that I've-gotta-concentrate-real-hard-on-playing look on his face.
His marching "prowess":
Side note: Our team won by one point. If the opposing team had made their 2 point conversion, we would have lost. It was a nailbiter for the homecoming game. It was so tense, I had to bite the nails of the woman next to me. (rim shot)
No Paul is not going to the homecoming dance. He has to run in a race tomorrow up in Milaca. Which Jim is going to. But not me. Wish I was. But I can't. Jim's taking the camera, though. So that's good. Still wish I were going. But I can't (etc).
I loaded up the Thermos with hot chocolate and grabbed a beach towel to sit on (the bleachers are pretty near to absolute zero so one must take measures to put a barrier between one's tush and the coldness of metal forged in the blistering frigidity of outer space). I had my fabulous new Laker jacket (to show my allegiance to the high school team) that was sewn with thread made from rays of the sun (yes, I am waxing metaphoric in this post. Deal with it) to keep me warm too.
Just to take pictures of Paul so you all could see him with a French horn in his hand and a bottle-brush-topped hat on his head.
Here is the band marching into the stadium. I will give ten bucks to anyone who can tell me where Paul is in this picture.
Here he is on the field. He has that I've-gotta-concentrate-real-hard-on-playing look on his face.
His marching "prowess":
Side note: Our team won by one point. If the opposing team had made their 2 point conversion, we would have lost. It was a nailbiter for the homecoming game. It was so tense, I had to bite the nails of the woman next to me. (rim shot)
No Paul is not going to the homecoming dance. He has to run in a race tomorrow up in Milaca. Which Jim is going to. But not me. Wish I was. But I can't. Jim's taking the camera, though. So that's good. Still wish I were going. But I can't (etc).
Comments
Glad you could go and glad you won. However, it isn't polite to put other people's fingers in your mouth.
I agree with Jenni that you really should how many germs you spread when you put strangers' fingers in your mouth. Maybe that's why we keep getting sick at our house. I've got to stop doing that at the grocery store.