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That’s not a typo.  More of an inner part joke.

I’ve returned from eight-days in the tall seas with my extended household, 17 of us in all.  Me, Josh, Janie, and Meg.  My mom and dad.  My youngest brother.  My 91-year old grandsire.  Two sets of aunts and uncles.  Five cousins.  And blessed for all of you, I’ve lived to sum up about it. Josh, on the other palm and fingers, is still in recovery fashion.  

Here’s a small recap of the hop.  The pictures are here because I’m having a vexed question with the up loader.

Day 1: Traveling From Seattle to Ft. Lauderdale

I tried to packet light, but not experienced what to expect since I’ve never cruised before and having the chicks in tow, we ended up checking five bags and one box of diapers, carrying on a backpack, an to be worshipped Halsea Weekend Bag and the ever-trustworthy Kate Spade Messenger Bag.  In addition, we had Meg, in her carseat, in her walk stroller.  Useless to say, once we got the bags checked and through safety, Josh made a beeline to the bar while we waited to plank. 

Day 2:  Get on the Boat

Honestly, I don’t even recollect this day.  All I apprehend is that I saw a lot of fanny-packs at breakfast in the cabaret, I was super cranky (peruse: bitchy) all day lengthy and to everyone (sorry, household), and we were on a big boat.  Beyond that I meditate I’ve blocked it out.

Day 3: Sailing

Thankfully, today we were allowed to be sluggish, as it was a day at sea.  Our space didn’t have a window, so the four of us slept in and woke up to yummy...

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