Odyssey of 33 days

Mom says she wants me to write a book. A memoir, perhaps? Jason just asked if I'm too drugged up to write a blog. This is not a bad question, but that's for later. Irregardless, I'm about to drop a novelette on you. After all, I'm 'documenting the Lutz family life,' and there's a lot to cover since the swimsuit post.

How long will I be able to sneak pictures of really cute stuff, hide the camera, and immediatetly begin scolding? Click. No, no, noooo, Gabby! We do not climb on the table. No ma'am!

Jennifer (aka "Denn-Denn") took us to Pullen Park where they have this fantastic, historic carousel complete with creepy music. You know what I'm talking about if you watched Are You Afraid of the Dark on Nickelodeon back in the day.

Gabby was nervous at first but then decided that there weren't enough "wheeeee"s in the world to express her joy.

Lipstick on the face. Classic.

Being a preacher/teacher combo has not been as easy on the schedule as we initially expected. Here we are together on the blog to calm the fears of those of you who haven't seen us as a unit in a while. We're still married! And contrary to the look of this picture, we're glad about it!

My tense body language has nothing to do with us and everything to do with height. Dad, how far up do you think we were? I'm guessing 50 or 60 feet. Dad, Natalie, Rachel, Stephen, Jason, and myself climbed the firetower on top of a mountain near Pigeon Forge. It was all fun and games until somebody mentioned the weight limit. That's why I wouldn't move closer to Jason... It meant I had to let go of something. AYE! Thanks to Nanna/Cinnamom/Cindy/Mom for keeping Gabrielle.

Ode to the Popsicle.

There are many reasons I might post these pictures, but the primary incentive is knowing that Grandma Bettye will leave a comment having the word "orange" in it. I love comments.

In between a short mountain vacation and trips to Chapel Hill, we have very sweet moments like this:

Baby in the box on the carpet. Slide to the left, slide to the right. Carpet slidin' babies are outta sight! (Thank you, Kimberly Clark! We love your products! Thanks, Uncle Rog! Huggies are the best!)

Everybody knows that a cardboard box is the best toy of all. No surprise here.

Advent of the Ponytail!!!

Hip hip hooray!

(Okay, enough of that.)

Hairbows are becoming a regular part of our day now, and Gabby calls them "bow-bows."

Jason's mom used to bribe him to read in the summers with milkshakes. Good plan, Linda. Now his reading incentive is having a pretty girl to read to.

That does it for most of the photojournalism this time. Now for the heavier things:

Keep my uncle, D.A. Fye, in your prayers. We got to visit him in the UT hospital where he is making a second home these days. D.A. was hit while riding his motorcycle, and so far he's lost two toes and now has a staph infection. D.A. and Judy are pretty tough, and it makes me laugh at my fear of pain to think of what he's dealing with. You can pray for less pain, quicker healing, wisdom for the doctors, and encouragement for D.A. and Judy.

Speaking of feet and my fear of pain... This morning, the car overheated on the way to Chapel Hill, where we were due to meet a dermatologist. Why a dermatologist, you ask? My foot! Stick with me, people. It's all going to come together. I am drugged up on a Valium-wannabe in Chapel Hill with an overheated car in order to see a dermatologist who is going to inject bleomycin (chemotherapy) into my ginormous plantar wart. Ooohhhhh! They don't have the bleomycin in the office today?! What?! What?! An hour and forty-five minutes for nothing?! Argh. Mission aborted.