Excuse the downpour of bloggery. Take what you can get.
So on my birthday — which, admittedly, was nearly a month ago — I took Spencer and Holly up to Seven Falls. Spencer had never been before. Holly had tried and, being unable to find it, declared it mythical. We found it and had a good time, despite a swarm of hundreds of ladybugs — literally hundreds, angry and biting, no less. And Holly took some pictures to prove that we were there.
Here's me, straddling a tree and looking like an asshole. It was my birthday, okay?
Here are Spencer and I, doing a reasonable impression of frat guys, what with the head rag and all. (It was hot. The temperature.)
And here's me with a butterfly on my head.
In the process of overcoming one of the larger rocks in our path, Holly cracked the very fancypants phone that took these pictures. To that, I say "Thank you, Holly's phone. Through your death, I have achieved long-lasting birthday memories."
The ladybug brigade, I'm sad to say, was not photographed.