we are good at karaoke

We are singing "White and Nerdy." No comment.

deep thought of the day

My congratulations to whoever managed to widely popularize a food with the unappetizing name "sour cream."

proof!

Thanks to Friend Ryan, we now have proof of our presence at snow camp.




No, Mr. Galore was not on drugs. Why do you ask?

uh ...

Sorry about the big space below. I don't know why it's there. Please don't let it detract from your hippo experience.

i like my happy hippopotamus

At Mrs. Galore's work holiday party this week, Mrs. Galore talked her way into four free drinks, Mr. Galore was kissed (on the cheek) by Mrs. Galore's boss, and a good time was had by all. Especially the hippo:

snow camp!

This weekend, we went up to Camp CAMREC (the place where we got hitched) for a couple of days of fun in the snow with folks from Seattle Mennonite.

[picture of fun in the snow -- um, we forgot our camera]

• Feet of snow: 3ish
• Cars in which we or our stuff traveled to or from camp: 5
• Games of ping-pong wherein Mr. Galore played opposite-handed and hopping on one foot and Mrs. Galore was victorious: 0
• Games of ping-pong wherein Mr. Galore played opposite-handed and closing one eye and Mrs. Galore was victorious: 1
• Games of ping-pong wherein Mr. Galore played opposite-handed and spinning around after every volley and Mrs. Galore was victorious: 1
• Snowshoe trips by Mr. Galore: 1
• Snowshoe trips by Mrs. Galore: 2
• Skiing trips by Mr. Galore: 2
• Skiing trips by Mrs. Galore: 0
• Number of times Mrs. Galore was said to have "contempt for skiing": many
• Pages read in front of the fire: lots
• Trips to Leavenworth: 1
• Days until next year's snow camp: 364 ...

perhaps in response to the michigan primary?

Mr. Galore's nocturnal revelation last night:

"Oh dear, dear, dear dear dear dear dear. Stupid Detroit."

He once sang "doo doo doo doo doo" in his sleep, as though he were frolicking carefree through wildflowers. Now he's so concerned all the time.

dream a little dream of frogs

Mrs. Galore was awakened by Mr. Galore sharing the following concern in his sleep the other night:

"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Poor Al Gore."

We can only hope this doesn't prove prophetic. As we hoped with his sleep-announcement this spring:

"What happened there? It seems like that was misrepresented somehow."

That was at least more clear than his nocturnal declaration in the summer:

"Ah geez. Crap crap crap crap crap. Rotary."

And while we're on the topic, we must mention the most endearing sleep conversation of all, which happened over a year ago. Mr. Galore was napping; Mrs. Galore was reading. Mr. Galore woke up.

Mr. Galore: "Where's Mr. Frog?"
Mrs. Galore: "What?"
Mr. Galore: "Where's Mr. Frog?"
Mrs. Galore: "Who's Mr. Frog?"
Mr. Galore: "My frog friend."

Many thanks to Mr. Galore for letting me share this with 6.5 billion people.

camel riding galore