a bird pooped on me.
and my Bible.
The sanitized version of the clean-up process, above. After the hysterical screaming died down (thankfully it was a charismatic church, else I would have caused alarm), people were kind enough to tell me they heard the THWACK of it landing on my Bible. Many apologies to Shem, Ham, and Japheth.
Belabor not the point that my skin is clearly showing the effects of this lovely Junuary weather.
As King Julien was so kind to point out the insanity of us wearing jackets and pants at the end of JUNE…
After surviving the Paper And Grass Diet for almost three weeks, the dude obviously couldn’t handle a combination of seafood and proper redneck hat placement.
But he was very, very happy.
And holy cow. Who told this kid he could be done with Kindergarten?
(And who told him he could dress himself for pictures? Mr. Dadddddyyyy?)
We have so much to get caught up on. I miss you all. Your comments and emails and prayers have been such a lifeline of support!
Tomorrow we head north for the big test. I am totally ready to hear the words, “no more treatment – it’s all gone”!
Because this man… needs to get himself on the mend. He’s got way too much trouble waiting to be caused.
If you wouldn’t mind, could you say a prayer? That the cancer would be GONE. That the fatigue would be GONE. That he would be one big giant walking miracle.
And Good Lord Man… would you write a blog post once in awhile? :)