nine

...is the number of mosquito bites I endured while trying to read in my backyard; also the number of months I've resided in Indiana; and the number of days until Mom, Dad and both brothers drive up for a visit; and the number of days it's been since I shaved my legs... OK, it's only been two but it sure looks like nine.

(Such a lackluster post, but I needed something to freshen up my stale little blog.)

cruel and redundant

Dear AP Reporter,
Anyone reading this article can see that the man is "toothless." I find the headline to be unnecessary and mean. Let the man have his 15 minutes or seconds in the spotlight without degrading him. Plus, Mr. Powerball Winner now has enough cash to hire really good lawyers and sue you for libel, if he was so inclined.

P.S. If you're thinking I'm a little regretful that I didn't buy a lotto ticket last week at the Shell station, you're right.

buona pasqua, y'all

My dad reminds me (every year around this time) that "Buona Pasqua" means "Happy Easter" in Italian, and that "Pasquariello" means "Little Easter."

Although Ryan and I didn't make it home for the holiday, we found little ways to make Easter our own. The day in photos...

[Captions: an Easter "basket" — which was really a mixing bowl; Belgian waffle breakfast; a few chocolate eggs Ryan arranged for my egg-hunt challenge; flowering tree in the front yard; a morning hike in Holliday park; pink tulips in the dining room; our "mini-monster" eggs; tennis lessons from the pro; springtime = open windows; and finally, because every good holiday should end with a good dessert, my chocolate-blackberry pie.]