It's almost over, this crazy weekend. I miss my friends already, but the Browns are still in town and they'll get to see the purchase K and I made this afternoon. Thirty minutes of paper signing culminated in us being owners of a beautiful home on the east side. We're movin' on up, according to the Jeffersons.
Scott's surprise party was the reason for my lack of a post (thanks, Mandi, Angie). At least I know the blog is appreciated now, and I can continue. It was good to see Craig, the Browns, SK, but was not quite the same without Katie, JohnL, MaryL, and Sam & Kev. We made do, though, and Jen organized a hell of a bash. We all recovered Sunday over warm, crispy on the edges pancakes. It was a full weekend of good times.
Dave came to the shindig as well with Cynthia, the angel-sweet woman that will soon be living with three boys and a bigger boy. They are due in two months, and she's ready to pop already. I was pleased to find out he'll be swinging by regularly to 3201 Newport Place since it's his patrol area four nights a week. It's always good to know people on the force. I can't wait to be a nice pit stop for him. He swung in and was 10-10 last night to the bar-b-que we had on the deck at the Faldons' place. Good times, indeed.
There were many pictures taken, and this was partly the reason for my delay. I'll post 'em when I can. Mandi, take care of my neices and get me Tony's new address in Kabul when you get it. I'm very lucky to have so many good people in my life. I love you all.
CZ
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3 comments:
...and we love you!!! ;-)
xoxoxox
you are such as a good guy c.z.! i'm glad that karen caught you because you have been a hard fish to catch! tony leaves for kabul tomorrow, (a move i am not pleased about), so when he is stable, i will send his address. you have no idea how ready i am for this to be over. i mean it's like....i don't know. i can't explain. just when i start to feel sorry for myself, it's then i think of him and having to say goodbye to his children and wife, family, and not ever know if he will see them again. it is he that sleeps with a 9mm under his pillow and trains afghan men to kill; unknowing if they are going to kill him. having to constantly look over his shoulder. when i think of that, a part of me lets go of the, "oh poor me". but then i am immediately bombarted with the, "oh poor tony". Shit, excuse me, this is not one of my therapy sessions, nor are you dear abby, so let me stop. just pray to those angels you may or may not believe in for "your angels" bri and lex. i love you!
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