Every parent knows about The Time Warp: Where minutes drag like days, days take weeks and years flash by in minutes. How did we end up here?
Graduation night. Mariucci Arena — the first time ever, by the way, that commencement was not held on school grounds. It worked out fabulously, but never mind. Here she comes. That's her there, bringing up the rear:
That's her sister, the one playing the oboe in the band, just behind that white splotch, to the left of the stage:
Thank heaven for the Jumbotrons.
There's more to June than graduation and the 5,247 parties, of course. Show season goes into full tilt. This is the summer of limited tilting at our house, but we're making it to a few rings. The big boy is showing 4th level and Prix St. Georges this year, for the curious. When people ask what happens at horse shows, it is easiest to compare them with track meets: lots of waiting around broken up by bursts of commotion. Guess which part this is.
Some of us manage to get a few things done, say filling out those infernal show forms (4-2? 4-3? PSG? I either need a quarterback or a vowel), with healthy diversions of ... what else? Reading about knitting ...
... and even actual knitting -- this is the first sleeve for the Isager sweater.
Plus one gratuitous dog photo.