Summer is Gone

 The summer ended for me with a Mom & Sam impromptu trip to the beach, which Macy & Grandaddy attended wholeheartedly and partially funded.  Normally I don't allow them to do lavish things like this for me, but I thought it was high time to indulge them.  Plus, it was Glendaddy's birthday, so we had a reason to celebrate.

It rained, but Sam was a trooper.

 

 I had lovely moments like this, which I'd been avoiding all summer mostly because I believe that time will go by faster if one actually enjoys oneself.  It's a sad state, I know.  Go ahead and feel sorry for me.

 Sam is and has always been a good traveller.  He even allowed me to stop in Montgomery to tour the Scott & Zelda Fitzgerald Museum/Home, where we were the only visitors except for two students from a local community college who informed me they were only there for the extra credit and left immediately after the movie.

In other news ...

John has been moving forward into 3rd grade with some up and downhill jags.  There was an incident with a required book recently, but overall I think he's handling everything well.  There seems to be more pressure/work although his only homework is an online math program.  I have assigned him extra spelling work through a fabulous website that I use with my students, and he actually likes it.  Ahem.

He is doing flag football again this fall, and between that, his piano lessons, Sam's soccer (I'm the team mom again -- yay me), and Brian's coaching, I don't expect to do much blogging before the holidays set in. 

 Here is John's "I'm From" poem.  I distinctly remember writing one of these, but I have no idea whether it was in 3rd grade or college.  In case you can't read it, here it is (I've taken the liberty of correcting some punctuation, capitalization, and spelling mistakes):

"Where I'm From"
by John Becker

I'm from the roads of Wisconsin, football, racing.
I'm from helicopters to planes.
I'm from video games to my snake.
I'm from Bob Segar to my brother's funny faces.
I'm from Quinn to Mac to Cohen.
I'm from me and that's not about to change.

I probably should've saved that for his birthday letter, but I've already typed it, so there.  Funny side note: The first draft had line 4 starting with, "I'm from bub sugar," and it was only through a long an drawn-out Q&A session that I finally figured out he was referring to BOB SEGER.

Don't worry Bri, it's metaphorical.  You are CLEARLY his father.

OUS,
k