personally, I think he doesn't like when I complain to the world about what a stinker he is at night. right, Finley? is that your deal? psst, I got a whole three hours of sleep last night. THREE. that's one more than two.
whoops, I wasn't supposed to talk about sleep (or lack of it I should say), and here I go rattling off about it again.
but hey, while we're on the subject, here's something I fail to comprehend: how the phrase "sleep like a baby" supposedly implies getting a good night's sleep? yeah right. whoever came up with that analogy obviously didn't have kids. because if you've ever been a parent, then you'd know that having "slept like a baby" actually means you were up every two hours, and therefore feeling like a turd struck with a club.
and now you all know how I've been feeling lately, in case you were wondering.
last Friday, we drove up to Inner Basin to check out the fall colors. being the road heading up there had just opened two days prior (it had been closed for over a year due to flooding), it seemed everyone and their brother's uncle's aunt's nephew's cousin's hairdresser's mortician all had the same idea. the place was crawling with people.
nevertheless, the aspens were still stunning-- the way their brilliant yellow leaves sparkled, shimmered and danced in the afternoon sunlight was quite mesmerizing. whoa, that was deep. but hey, not bad for running on fumes.
so yeah. if you haven't had a chance to take in the fall colors, then look what you missed out on. I mean, just LOOK at it.
|as Sawyer was looking at this picture he asks, "mom, are those the San Diego Peaks?" San Francisco, San Diego, what's the difference?|
|my favorite from the day.|
|Finley sleeps a lot, but then he doesn't sleep a lot. or maybe he just sleeps at the wrong times.|
home sweet home.