on the rocks
We also enjoy photography. We all enjoy taking them of each other but not having our own picture taken. We snap pictures of everything
I hate having my picture taken with the exception of my willingness to do something undignified, unsafe, or goofy for the camera. This also has grown into my hobby of having some inanimate object to place on things, take a picture of it on monuments, in landscapes, next to things, or with people.
This weekend my God Parents came up from New Jersey, my cousins and A & M came with them as well. We went up to Madison, Connecticut. Every town in Connecticut is as beautiful as Cabot Cove in the Murder She Wrote, it is the cities � like the one I live in � that need work. When I am rich and ridiculous, I will live in Madison off Boston Post Road, and ride my bike around town as if I am out of some poorly written novel.
Oh, to be rich and ridiculous instead of: ridiculous on a budget.
In Madison we walked around, looked at their sculpture mile and the independently owned shops that line Boston Post Road (the postal road that runs from Maine to Florida, you could say �it runs between the Bushes�). We took great pictures; Buzz Net is being a jerk and is not up. You will never know.
We then went to the near by state park, which is really a public beach with some educational science activities.
Educational science activities might include climbing down the dock made of huge glacial rocks, weaving between fishermen and crabbers, taking pictures and posing for them but I am sure that is not the intended purpose.
My favorite one of myself is: me (appearing to be) stuck between two large rocks. Cousin A was looking for shells, I was looking for fossils (in the rocks). Between two of the rocks there was a gap that had I not gained forty pounds since moving to Connecticut I would have been able to squeeze between them to get the excellent shells protected by their inaccessibility. Cousin A asked, knowing I am a slow, fat kid, to get her the shells that she is too short to reach.
I squeezed between the rocks and it looks like I am stuck. Either I still am and my wireless connection is marvelous OR my years of gymnastic training and on crutches left me with the upper body strength to push my way out and the knowledge of how to do it. I keep reminding people: do not underestimate my powers (or misunderestimate them either).
Then we wandered over to a part of the beach where there are huge glacial rocks that appear in my pictures to be huge mountains that I have bravely scaled. First, I went and walked on the rocks by the water.
In case you did not get Yvonne�s memo about the geomorphic properties of the Connecticut shore I will remind you: light colored rocks are dry, dark colored rocks are wet. Wet rocks are slippery. I had two run ins with the laws of gravity before I decided to stop playing on the darker rocks. I would have kept trying but Cousin A pointed out that I was bleeding.
You always bleed in reverse proportion to your wound. Had a I lost an arm I would not have bled as much as I did on Saturday. For a while blood gushed out of my finger onto every thing I own. I also had a blue pen blow up in my right hand pocket making me then red, white and blue � depending on which of my two thousand parts you encountered.
I think climbed around on huge rocks that made up a cliff facing the rocks that I had just fallen off. When you fall off a rock, climb up on a bigger one. I was still bleeding. I was not stopping to get the finger fixed. I never do anything fun like play on large rocks by the shore so I was not stopping for blood loss.
Again, you will never know this because Buzz Net died.
Later that night we had Polish food at a local restaurant, hung out at my house, and did work around my classroom. Again, you will never get to see those lovely bulletin boards
Buzz Net dying and school starting Wednesday have left me feeling cranky and confused. I will talk to you all later.
