Smacksy Saturday Photo: He's Packed

I pride myself on my travel packing. It's one of my things. We are leaving tomorrow for eight days away at a baseball tournament. This afternoon, I packed Bob's bag. He does not need to bring his bat, but will need everything else. I was determined to fit everything for him into a carryon and one "personal item." (The place we are staying has a washer and dryer.)

Included In Carryon:
Cleats
Batting Helmet
2 Gloves
1 Baseball
1 Pair Batting Gloves
4 Pairs Uniform Socks
Belt
4 Pairs Sliding Undershorts
2 Uniform Jerseys
4 Pairs Baseball Pants
3 Pairs Shorts
4 Shirts
5 Pairs Underwear
5 Pairs Socks
Swimsuit
Rash-guard Swim Shirt

In His Backpack:
Beach Shoes
Toiletries
Snacks
Book
Headphones
Sunglasses

And then I did a victory lap through the house. High five.
Do they have a Packing Tournament? I think I'm ready.

The Eagle Has Landed

The new couch arrived this morning. Everyone just seems very confused by the whole situation. They are on strike against the couch. They have spent some time eyeing the (delicious) throw pillows piled on the kitchen table where said throw pillows shall remain until the end of time so they are not eaten. We have some issues.

So Long, Craig's List Chesterfield Sofa

We said goodbye to the old (tasty) couch today and the guys are taking it a little hard. Teddy repeatedly walked in circles in the area formerly known as couch. Levi just stared at the empty space for three minutes.

There is another (delicious) couch showing up tomorrow. The new one might smell less like old dog pee, but I'm guessing "someone(s)" will take care of that pretty quick.

Fourth of July

I strolled through the park on my way to grab a seat to watch the parade this morning. (I was going to write I "walked" but when you're making your way through a beautiful park, I think it's an automatic "stroll.")

Mr. Rosenberg and Bob continued their long tradition of being in the parade. They marched and performed a quick number from The Greatest Showman with a group of dads and kids. None of us has seen that movie yet so it wasn't until this evening that we found out that's what they had actually been doing. Details.

When it got dark we sat on blankets in the high school football field and watched the firework show. Mr. Rosenberg and I took turns naming the fireworks.

"I call that one, The Screamer."

"That's The Fluffy Sparkler."

"Hey! It's The Super Twister."

"That's the Wonderful World of Disney Opening Sequence, Circa 1969."

And next fourth of July, I hope we get to do it all over again.

Tuesday Night

The wind up.

Muscle Amnesia

I've been going to physical therapy every week for awhile now, rehabbing my torn rotator cuff thing. I also get to pilates when I can, not as much as I'd like, but still. Today I added something new to my situation and tried the New York City Ballet Workout via the YouTube.

I used to study ballet, like three hours a day, five days a week, a short thousand years ago. I figured I'd catch on to this NY City Ballet Workout, no problem because I assumed not having done ballet in thirty-one years wouldn't be an issue and I am special and the rules don't apply to me and muscle memory and everything.  I made it seven minutes and twenty-eight seconds (give-or-take) into the hour long workout and then every part of me said no.

I will try again tomorrow because that's how change happens but mostly because I committed to the shoes.

Smacksy Sunday Links

"Hold on guys, be right back, I'm just going to go make the bed real quick and --- oh."

The magic of seeing everything as sacred.

A smart guide to traveling.

This amazing eleven-year-old Nigerian artist.

Twenty short novels you can read in a day.

Eighty-eight artists drew the sky.

And kittens in a teacup.

Happy Sunday.