BELLY: Week 20

 

Here's a couple pictures of the tummy today... high-quality mirror pictures, of course.
At least I was smart enough to write the sign backwards this time!

Corn & Pumpkins

Now that we're a month into fall (or "autumn", if you're the sophisticated kind) and it's actually starting to feel fall-ish outside, I'm going to welcome the season with a little text and a lot of pictures.

My family and I have actually done a decent job celebrating the harvest this year.  For example, Daniel and I joined Scott and Stacey (my siblings-in-law) on a corn maze mission.  It was actually more fun than I expected.  One, because they have lengthened and elaborated the maze a lot since over the last six years.  Two, because my group was drunk, so it was easy to sneak away from them and do some scaring of my own.  And three, because we were closely followed by an amusing black couple that were frightened by EVERYTHING.

Corn faces... mine fails.

Better?

This is exactly what it looks like.

Waiting to jump out and scare those inebriated.

A few days later, the boys and I went visited Tate Farms -- a local pumpkin farm that has lots of fun things for the kiddos slash the young-at-heart this time of year.  Dylan had a blast, packing in as much as he could the two hours we were there.  Daniel had a blast trying to keep up with him.  And I had a blast taking over 100 pictures... most of which ended up featuring Dylan's back.

Thanks to McDonald's ridiculously slow internet, it took 45 minutes to upload those last fourteen pictures, and now I don't even have time to add captions.  Actually, I technically do, but I like my family too much to spend much more time in this fried food haven... and I still want to upload my most recent belly photos.  SO I'M SPENT.  Ta ta.

Tuscaloosa

Roll Tide

I have a confession to make:  I'm a fan of the University of Alabama. (And I'm not only referring to their football team... although I have been known to get really high blood pressure on gamedays.)  But, unlike most of the Bama fans I know, I wasn't born with crimson blood pumping through my veins.  Not figurative crimson blood, anyway.

When I first moved to Alabama from Pennsylvania in the 10th grade, one of the very first things a fellow Buckhorn student asked me was "Alabama or Auburn?"...  to which I replied "Um, what's Auburn?".

I responded that way because was sincerely confused, and my confusion horrified the inquirer.  I wish I remember who it was that asked me this question, cause I'd like to go back in time and slap him or her around a little.  After all, this person was more interested in knowing what team I rooted for than learning my first name.  But that's Alabama for you.

Gotta love the government

You see, I grew up with a die-hard Boston Red Sox fan as a father.  He was not a college football fan, and I was not old yet enough to begin shopping for colleges.  I had simply never heard of Auburn University.  So shoot me.  However, now that I've spent a lot of my time in this fine state, I (kind of) understand the importance of the question imposed upon me.  But in my defense, the southerner should have known to only expect so much from a blonde girl that "talks really fast and like a Yankee."

Nine years later, here I sit in a Barnes & Noble, a proud alumnus of UA. Although I only lived in Tuscaloosa for two years (due to some serious college hopping), I have a lot of respect for T-town, its university, and its Nick Saban.

Needless to say, I was heartbroken to hear about the enormous tornado that ripped through the town back in April.  The storm leveled businesses and houses that were located only blocks away from apartments in which I had lived -- information that does not sit well in the pit of my stomach.  I saw the destruction with my own two eyes three weeks after the storm.  And I know it's cliche to say, but pictures do not do it justice.

Below are some of the photos I snapped.  Most were taken in a neighborhood about 100 yards from Bent Tree Apartments, where I lived my junior year.  The others were taken on 15th street.

My friend Amanda's footwear proved more appropriate than my flip-flops.
I punctured my left foot on a nail during our adventure.
And, by the way, those grapes were not ours.

I LOVE YOU, TUSCALOOSA!