For weeks this ghost weed has caught my attention by waving it's little scrawny fingers at me while it sits at the base of Killer Hill, the affectionate name we give a particularly steep part of our driveway. What do you think it is saying to me? That is what I wondered as I actually stopped to take it's portrait. I'm so stupid, sometimes.
So...I'm not in the mountains this evening (Friday). Instead, I'm sitting alone in some skanky dive on the Grand Strand in Myrtle Beach. I knew I was in trouble the moment I entered the lobby and heard god awful karaoke screaming from the bar. Everybody sing with me now, "I got friends in lowly places." But, at least this haunt has free wireless internet--unlike other places I know. My eldest daughter is running in the Myrtle Beach Marathon way too early in the morning. Actually, she is only running a half marathon, but it is her longest race so far. Husband and youngest daughter were gonna join me, but were rudely interrupted by a violent puke fest. 'Nuff said.
I must go to bed. My hopes for tomorrow are that 1) Eldest daughter is pleased with her performance. 2) Youngest daughter feels better. 3) I get a glimpse at my daughter as she runs. 4) I dip my big toe in the cold Atlantic and then take a photo. 5) Return safely back to the fold before the puke bug catches me...
Night y'all.
Oh wait, wait, wait. I almost forgot to talk about Appalachian football. I heard this rumor the other night at the basketball game...but it is now official. OMG. Only thing better is if we played the Buckeyes or Florida State. I oh so know who Melissa is pulling for in this contest...
