how 'bout that weather?

This has been a pretty exciting week for storm-lovers. We've had four of them, two so severe the tornado sirens went off (and, unfortunately, an area town withstood some pretty serious damage).

I haven't always been fond of storms. I remember lying between my mom and dad with my fingers over my eyes and my thumbs jammed in my ears, trying to create my own sensory deprivation chamber. At some point, though, I became smitten and would await them with anticipation. When the leaves showed their pale undersides and the air started to smell like rain, I'd run out to our yard and look on as towering, slate-colored walls of cloud slid in from the west.

I'm not sure what's unique about Midwestern storms, but there's definitely something that sets them apart from the flash floods we endured on the East Coast. The rain here falls sideways and it's accompanied by tree-bending winds. Those are fascinating, but my favorite parts are my erstwhile arch-nemeses: lightning -- long, webbed cracks across the open sky -- and thunder -- booms so powerful they reverberate in my chest. Perhaps the most incredible part of all, however, is that on their tails often come the most incredible sunsets.

Oh, did I say four storms? Make that five. I'd better sign off and find our flashlights. It may be wise for us to incorporate them into our living room decor.

slowly but surely

We've moved! A million thank-yous to the people who helped us load and unload (and to those who volunteered to help but whose services we didn't actually need because we finished the job in record time). Boy, do we have a lot of stuff -- good thing we have a closet the size of our first non-Union bedroom. The essentials are unpacked, and we're diligently paring down the remaining stacks of boxes. This place is slowly starting to feel like home. What a ride. 

so american

Every year, we Americans set aside the last Monday in May to remember people in the military who have died while serving our nation. I am so blessed to personally know just one of those soldiers. Though I do spend some time each Memorial Day thinking about him and all the other soldiers who have lost their lives, I also like to do something to commemorate the country they were fighting to protect. (Read: While I'm not always a big fan of the things our government does in the name of United States citizens, I am very, very grateful to live here.) So every Memorial Day, I try to let a little extra pride show...and this year, it was by participating in one of America's homegrown pastimes: minigolf. Girls against boys. Hoo ha.

Mom and Dad drove down to visit all their Waukesha-dwelling children for lunch. Afterward, Andrew and I talked everyone into a game of minigolf at Prairieville Park.

Everybody fared quite well despite the hole designs doing everything possible to keep balls out.

Despite Hole 14's best efforts to repel my ball, I shot a hole in one! But I also racked up seven sixes, making me the worst-scoring person on Team Estrogen.

The Trooper Award goes to Ian, who, apparently, is not a big fan of minigolf. Guess we'll be going to the next Rufus Wainwright concert.