before and after

This is the way nature intended my hair, and sadly the way it looks most days.


Here's my hair (and a crazy-lady smile) thanks to the magical flat iron. I only look this sexy (see August post--sorry I'm too ignorant to do a link) once a week. Or month.


Beauty is pain, as my friend Rachel used to say. I'm itching to cut my hair short again. But then I'll be griping about having to get it cut every four weeks. Sigh. Why didn't I inherit my mother's gift for cheerfully getting up at 5:30 to beautify? Damon's right. I'm not much of a girl (see April post).

Claire

Claire demonstrating a more efficient way to drink tea.


Claire holding her pet Leaf Bug.


Claire in her favorite state of being: wet and muddy

ripped

Jake cuts his own hair in front of the bathroom mirror. During his last hair cut, he called to me, "Hey, check out my six-pack...oh, wait, those are my ribs."

I know what you're thinking: I'm a lousy cook. I'll admit I'm not the best, but he was pretty thin when I got him, so I'm just maitaining the status quo.