Speaking of the worm farm, the boys really enjoyed using said worms to go fishing:
Okay, well, Piglet had a large time. Pigpen wasn't so sure about grabbing hold of his fish. This is his "For the love of God, take the picture NOW, woman! Can't you see I'm touching a fish? I'm dying inside!" face:
The reason I passed the post office was in my search for my book club book that I bought through Amazon and it didn't arrive until after I left home. (The Happiness Project for those interested) I was surprised to find that the stores two towns over (only stores, seriously) do not sell books. I'm sorry, the CVS did have an impressive array of Harlequin romance novels and something called "The Breast Book" which I didn't not examine too closely. Tomorrow I'm going to drive 30 minutes in the other direction to The Wal-Mart (when there's only one in a 100 mile radius, you have to add the "The". And capitalize it.) in hopes of finding one of them new fangled book things.
My shopping fail left me with an overwhelming urge to buy something, so I filled that need with coupon-purchased (natch) shampoo, sunscreen, and some shiny green nailpolish. Green? you ask. Green. A peppy, bright green. I'm going to the beach, who cares? And frankly, I think it's perky, summery and cute. Apparently not. The following are the comments I received back at the homestead, in order:
MIL: "Puts me in the mind of gangrene."
Mr. Pigs: "Hideous."
FIL: "Mercy me! What got after your toes?"
Piglet: "Will you do mine?"
Sigh. No tolerance for anything new or different around here. That ought to bring you up to date. Beach in two days. Until then, friends.