. . . and life is like a song

"How," Brandy demanded, her face looking like a memento mori, "is it possible for someone like yourself, who spends hours every day editing Chris's novel, to have as yet nary a teambubu blog post on your resume?" She wrung her hands. She wrung my hands. "How, I say," she continued, arms akimbo, "can I tell our friends that you, who are functionally unemployed, a slothmuch, a mowlittle, a beerskin, a be-cheetoed palmprint on the sleeping face of St. Brewguts, cannot help me even with this blog?"

"How," she asked again, legs akimbo this time but for only a spectacularly painful moment which convinced her to resume her earlier posture, "can you bring yourself to face sweet Melody, who for us didst fashion yon blog? Oh, thou who art for public house sluggards a totem of cheer, to think that they are more industrious at least than thy sulking frame! Oh for breath to utter what is like you!"
And if she did at this point borrow a bit overmuch from Henry IV, still I was moved to correct rather my own errors than hers (for to venture the latter would see me much moved!).

And so I hope you don't mind that I wrote down in words--with a few pictures--how wonderful life is, now we're in Winston Salem. I had intended to show pictures of my bike, or my fun post-helmet hair, or the cool chain wheel grease stains on my calf (which would make a bodacious tattoo!), but I don't have any yet. So, I thought Brandy's shoes needed airing. That is, pictures of her fun new shoes. And half of me at today's 2nd Annual 48-Hour Film Festival in nearby Greensboro, in which dozens of indy film crews compete to film the best ten-minute picture on location in Greensboro, total production time not to exceed 48 hours. Thank you NPR for the tickets I won from you. Not a bad time. The other half of me came too, and together we all had a delicious time.
And finally a picture of Sophie, in case you've forgotten her. We don't have a baby, but we have one cute Beagle, ladies and germs.

Yours First and Last,
Ben

Ah, Winston-Salem...

Okay, okay so this isn't our new little town but I've had some long clinics lately and have been longing for this place again...so soon we left it. Is or has anyone seen Lady in the Water? Our entertainment fund is growing slim so we might have to catch it at the $2 theater.

Since last we met...
Ben bought a bike and I haven't seen him since.
We discovered three new running trails--two of which would be ideal for strolling babies along.
I diagnosed an abdominal aortic aneurysm and an upper respiratory infection or two.
Sophie got over her fear of the lawnmower (it's the old-fashioned-no-motor type)
Ben joined a Bible study with a philosophy professor, a physics professor, and a theologian.
I finally watched both Raising Arizona and The Big Lebowski. I have now finished the Coen brothers canon (though I slept through most of Miller's Crossing but woke up for the important violent parts). What an accomplishment, indeed.
Next up: images of Winston-Salem (otherwise known as a ploy to attract certain Lumpkins to live here)

This is for Rebecca. Now you know that you have a job if you get tired of audiology.

Saturday morning

-back from garage-sailing. Ben found all kinds of great loot that we will someday be putting in our very own yard sale. He is displaying here some of his great finds: a chef's hat, apron, and Learn German cds. In other sales he found a camping saw (tiny wire wrapped around bigger wire meant to be held in place by a stick). Trash to treasure indeed.

whitewater fourth

Did everyone have a lovely fourth? Ben and I celebrated our continued independence by hitting the Pigeon River whitecaps. I had never been whitewater rafting and he has only gone as a wee one. It started out a beautiful, hot, muggy day and once we were bused to our start-off point and ensconced on the rafts (with a Korean family and Johnny, our guide) it started raining. The scenery was lush and green and quiet. We were accompanied other rafters and kayakers (some of whom used hand paddles-new to me) and let the river carry us. I think canoeing requires much more work. Here are some before/after pictures. Later that night we met up with our neighbors and headed to a huge open park for fireworks. Ben and I got home just in time to join them, so he quickly grabbed a bag of cheetos and beer-we we all arrived, our neighbors brought out their loot--brie with ciabatta, smoked salmon/cream cheese, champagne, guacamole, and artichoke pasta salad. Oops.

After a lazy Sunday listening in to Prarie Home Companion and discovery of fresh rhubarb at the grocery store it was evident that the weekend needed to end on a rhubarb pie note. I had scarcely heard of rhubarb before I knew Ben. He, however, grew up on it. His aunt was sweet in sharing her recipe as a wedding gift (no, not her ONLY wedding gift), and so we put it to use. Rhubarb, by itself, is a very strange fruit?vegetable? to put into a pie, at least to me. It's in the celery family and its leaves are poisonous. That just asks for trouble. When you slice it, it seems to have the texture of water chestnuts but when combined with flour, sugar, and a few strawberries it's actually very yummy.

2 Months

Ben and I celebrated our 2 month anniversary with a picnic at a park. It was yummy. And it sprinkled on us, naturally. We celebrated my new PALS certification by going to see Superman.