My feelings about the lone star state have pretty much mellowed over the winter, but with the summer creeping up on us, I'm feeling the need to stock pile reasons I love where I live. Last week's storms presented this first spectacular reason to me:
And these pictures don't do an ounce of justice. For some reason, when it storms here, the clouds hang really low in the sky, and you feel like you could just reach up and scoop a handful of sunset out of the sky. Lover-ly.
Until next week that is. Crazy times are here: finals, interviews, wedding cakes and babies in there somewhere. Blogging will commence after the insanity of the next nine days.
In the meantime, enjoy these sideways pictures of my beautiful baby girl's newest trick.
I love her expression. Don't. Move. A. Muscle. I might fall.
It's not snow, but the weekend's marathon-o-storms made our drafty apartment too cold for little feet. What to do?
Tyler did his very best to keep Jamie away from the fire, having learned from sad experience that hot things are not good to touch. (Don't worry, I was policing the policing)