Nightblogging, we’re nightblogging
we’re what’s happening
Nightblogging, we’re nightblogging…

On Sunday morning in the mountains, I was still asleep while the Boy snapped nature photos.

He always wakes up before I do.

Oh hello, little chipmunk! This photo is blurry. I have a crystal clear shot of the chipmunk’s anus, for some reason, but thought this one was cuter.

A little bird, blending in with the ground.

Ducks everywhere.

And here is Pig Snout Girl, just waking up. As you can see I take my sleep mask everywhere. It took me several minutes to get my eyes open, barely, and when I did…

…the Boy was right in my face with the video camera. Who does he think he is, me??? Ah ha, my squinty eyes are hilarious in this video. I look like I’m really, reeeeally high.

The water looked so beautiful with the morning sun sparkling on it.

I know that I love the sun and heat and all that crap but (dare I say it?) this afternoon may have been just a smidge too hot for me.

I mean, on the way to the tanning salon for my pre-weekend spray of chemicals my car said it was 98 degrees outside. Woof, Seattle.

I half-heartedly threw the ball with Maggie in the backyard while sucking down a Big Stick and then settled on the couch with two fans blowing overhead, in my underpants, playing “Angry Birds”.

I’m trying to get knocked up right now (I know what you’re thinking…Liz, aren’t you always trying to get knocked up? Yes, but sometimes harder than other times) and if I do get pregnant, what I’m going to remember is that I spent a lot of time in my underpants, playing angry birds.

These super-duper “artistic” close-ups of Bear Cub are the Boy’s work. He just loves that zoom button.

He used to constantly do these kind of close-ups to me until I trained him to stop. It’s easier to zoom and crop later, I kept telling him. Once you’ve over-zoomed, you can’t go back!

Sneaky.

After a breakfast of coffee and bagels with whipped cream cheese, we took a little hike around the lake…until it got too rocky and we had to stop.

Yes, I am wearing a fanny pack here, and you are free to mock me ruthlessly. It zipped off the Boy’s backpack, it’s not like it’s MINE. As if.

Anyway, the geekiness of the fanny pack beats the absurdity of last year’s camping trip, when I had to use my nice leather purse as a camera bag. At one point I crossed a swiftly moving river holding the purse over my head like some kind of lunatic. That was one of those moments, you know, when I realized: if I wasn’t me, I would be making fun of me so hard.

Maggie took every opportunity to get wet.

Looking back at camp during our walk.

That’s a little waterfall behind them, but you can’t really see it.

“The talking stick is not with you!”

Oh it’s been a blast. Coming up: part 4–swimming in the mucky mucks. Have a flab-u-luous weekend! I’m going camping.