Everything I Like Causes Cancer

I am surprised by the amount of interest garnered by my wonky left nipple yesterday. I shouldn't be, I do actually know you people, but still. Sheesh. I promise all of your questions will be answered soon. Patience is a virtue.

In the meantime, I'm going to finish my story about Chicago. Oh, come on! You better not be clicking away right now. I mean it. You want nipple? Yeah? Then finish this post. You can't have your pudding if you don't eat your meat, monkeys.

There's a creek, at the bottom of the hill behind the house, that runs all the way to the lake, so the bank was lined with paddle boats and kayaks and jet skis and boats. The kids had a ball playing in the water.


They recently built an addition that is a sharp, modern contrast to the warm lodginess of the house. The addition acts as both a work-out and music room. The guys went in there almost immediately after dinner and played and jammed until well after midnight.


John is sporting the latest in men's fashion, the plastic clam shell bra. I gave a pair to each of the guys and only John wore his. He's my favorite.


Here are Robin and Cindy, two of the neighbors. These gals are polar opposites, you can tell by just looking at them. Robin, wearing the blue sweatshirt, well, let's just say this was not her shining moment of the evening. When I first met her, an hour or so prior to this photo, she gave a good first impression, she seemed energetic and fun. And then the next time I saw her, pictured above, she was loudly trying to badger Cindy into going out on a boat with her. She was not a very good advocate for hershelf, conshiderinnnn her speesch annn all.

Cindy, a character in her own right, repeatedly refused and became more inventive each time. It was so funny (uncomfortable) to watch that I pulled up a chair and took in the show. I couldn't believe I hadn't even had to pay admisshhion.

Speaking of not paying admission for a great show, let's go back to Cindy for a minute. Super friendly gal. Funny, engaging, pleasant. So when she asked me if I wanted to take a tour of her house I was flattered to have been asked. I've since named this chapter in my life "The Cindysperience"; everyone should have one.

The house, a forty year old* A-frame, has lots of interesting features: a spiral staircase; a shower installed along one leg of the "A" such that no one can stand up in it; and outdoor laundry. You could tell Cindy was proud of the eccentricity of her home and was delighted that we were interested in its colorful stories.

One of those stories centered around a bat that had once gotten into the house. As she told the story she darted from one end of the living room to the other, hurriedly describing and reenacting the story, using different voices for each character. It was a scream. The best part was being there with Jeannie, a stoic woman jammed-packed with biting and hilarious sarcasm. I found myself edging farther and farther away from them so I could see the entire exchange - Cindy breathless and darting; Jeannie observing and biting her tongue. It was priceless.

Late, and I mean really late, John and I realized we had forgotten to do something. Something really important. Something we had looked forward to all day. Know what it was?

Yup, we burned another Christmas tree. Only this time we are 10x drunker and forget that the camera is on.