Sunday, August 30, 2009

Sanger Family Beach Trip Extravaganza

Well, hello there. You may be wondering exactly who I am since I appear to have fallen right off the face of the earth. Allow myself to introduce myself. I'm Heather and I used to blog here. Then my existence got flipped ass over teakettle (but I still can't tell you just how yet...sorry) and I got thrown into the deep end of life's pool, without my floaties and was told to swim. So, just over a week into this madness, I seem to have gotten my head above water enough to think about something else. And that something else is the Sanger Family Beach Trip Extravaganza. And so it begins...

Saturday night. Katie and Anna request a viewing of Mama Mia and a follow up dance party. We are happy to oblige.

Anna's favorite song for dance parties is "Barbie Girl". She will absolutely lose her damn mind if you put that song on.

Sunday, our first real day at the beach. A day for sandcastles...

snacks...

and a gymnastics competition.

I'm pretty sure Katie won. (Though I have to say that Jason put up a good fight with his handstands.)

Aunt Heather's patented Beach Towel Burrito - to ensure maximum coverage and warmth after getting out of the pool.

Unfortunately, you give up other things when engulfed in the patented Beach Towel Burrito. Like, for instance, wide range of motion for your legs and balance. Weebles wobble and, evidently, do fall down.

Beware. Nothing can prepare you for the cuteness you are about to behold. Ready? Ok. Scroll.

Are you dying yet? Do you not just want to nomnomnom his little face?

Crab huntin'.

Most mornings Amy, Katie, Anna and I went on a shell-collecting mission.

Looking for treasures...


The star of this photo is not Amy, as you may initially think. It's the red solo cup. Why? Because in that cup is one of the tastiest and most lethal cocktails I've ever had. Tasty because it's Firefly Sweet-Tea Vodka and lethal because, well, hello? Sweet-tea vodka. Except you can't actually taste the vodka. Lethal. Some of us were a tad worse for the wear the next morning.

Oops - no warning. Can you handle the cute???? CAN YOU???

I spent most of my pool time with one or more nieces suctioned to me.

Erica officially began the transformation into her mother when she brought a cheese and cracker board down to the pool.

I just love this photo of Anna. She would never no not ever put a sandy shell in her bucket. Every time she found one she liked, she would run over and say "Let's go wash it off!"

Katie and Anna practice their sweet jumps.


We call this one the Starfish.

It's ice cream sundae night!

I'm not sure who was more excited - Katie...

or Jason.

Another seemingly innocent shell-collecting mission...

Which turned into this when Anna went into the ocean in her clothes. Mind you, this started when she waded in and bent down to wash off a shell and her bum got wet. Though she initially wanted to go back to the house and change, she soon took a shine to the novelty of having your clothes get wet courtesy of the ocean and just dove in, swimming all around in the incoming tide.

And then she figured out how much fun it was to run in the surf and kick water all over the place. So we did. Because, why not?

A cloudy afternoon spent with a beachy art project - shell painting.

Jason gives Jenny and Ryan a little break by trying to feed Liam. As you can see by Liam's decidedly shut mouth, this didn't go as well as Jason would have hoped.

Liam attempts a runner when he thinks no one is watching.

We spent a whole afternoon racing each other and using photo finish to determine the winner.

One of these two people should probably trade their fancy, flavored martini for a beer. Hint: it's not Jenny.

This is what happens when Anna gets bored after dinner and steals your camera. She asked me to show her my mean face. This was the best I could muster up.

A great shot of me and Katie.

And a very lengthy self-portrait photo shoot. This assortment is in no way representative of the actual number of pictures she took of her own face. I edited it way down to showcase the funniest ones.




Friday was very very rainy but it stopped long enough for us to take one more walk run on the beach.

These houses at the end of the island don't appear to have much longer to live. On the last one down at the very end, the waves were crashing on the pilings under the house.

This sad sight drove Jason and I to the bottle. Or, in actuality - to the can. We truly are class personified.

Friday night, we headed out to Sugar Shack for some Jamaican food. And giant bottles of Red Stripe.

And miraculously, the sun came out so we found ourselves at an outdoor beach music concert after dinner. Anna is shown here in a rare moment of rest.

But clearly, she was just recharging.

Coming in for the kill...

Target acquired. I at least try to defend Jason but Anna can not be stopped. She is a machine.

You know that cheesy saying "Dance like no one is watching"? I'm pretty sure this is what they meant.

Saturday morning it was time to go but we couldn't face leaving without one last walk on the beach.


I know this wasn't my most riveting commentary. To be honest, I don't have the time or energy to think much about blogging or writing right now. It's a miracle that I even got this post up, period. So, sorry. Not my best work. But I can promise you guys that there is potential for some most excellent content on the horizon. Just stick with me a liiiiiittle bit longer....

Friday, August 21, 2009

Nine innings, forty-eight ounces of beer

Let me start by saying that things have taken a rather insane turn over here at the Sanger ranch.  And we are BIZZ-AY.  That's like, real real busy.  All shall be revealed on a future episode of The Heather Show.

I hope to get the beach trip posted over the weekend but to tide you over, here's Jason classin' things up again; this time at a Durham Bulls game.  We got home from the beach last Saturday and decided that we were not satisfied with a week-long holiday.  So we topped it off with a nine-inning vacay at the DBAP.

Hey, where there's 24 oz. cans of beer, we'll be there.  That's like stacking two regular cans of beer on top of each other.  Tallboy, double-decker, whatever you want to call it - it's two times the beer, two times the fun and a quarter of the taste of one of the local microbrews they sell on the other side of the ballpark.  But that's ten times the length of the walk to the beer stand.  So, ummm, yay for... math?  I seem to have lost my direction somewhere in there.  Where was I?  Oh right....  Cheers!

P.S.  The Bulls beat the Yankees.  Yessssss.