C’mon Irene.

Well, that was… not that bad?

We still don’t have any power — at least we didn’t first thing this morning — and I’ve heard we might not have it restored until tomorrow, or as late as Friday. God, I hope we get it back before Friday — not because I can’t entertain myself without a TV, because I can* — but because Thursday is Husbang’s 30th birthday, and I’m planning a fiesta (seriously, I bought sombreros, I’m not just being cute) on Saturday… and I really, really need to clean my house before then.

In the meantime, we just hang out by candlelight.

The good news? At least the pool is full, if you don’t mind swimming with some leaves, tiny branches and maybe a frog or seven. Also in freezing water.

In the end, I’m pretty sure everything in my fridge/freezer isn’t going to make it, and our trees look a little naked without their leaves, acorns & walnuts — but we’re no worse for wear. The biggest casualty? My poor air-dried hair. I look ahmazing. And by amazing, I mean electrocuted.

So, last week we had an earthquake, a hurricane, and our first round of fertility drugs. And I’m pretty sure the hormones were the most deadly thing Mike had to deal with.

Oh, also — my husband is hilarious.

Last week, we’re watching TV and we see the trailer for Moneyball, and Mike says, “I think I’m gonna name my left testicle Moneyball. The right can be Powerball. Together they’ll be known as ‘Fame & Fortune.'”

*… I lied. I missed True Blood, and it’s killing me.

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One thought on “C’mon Irene.

  1. Finally, a blog that isn’t about magnets. You’re back in my good graces, Ashley! This was hilarious. πŸ™‚

    PS Looking forward to the party. If you need help with anything pre-party, let me know. The only thing I can’t do is make electricity.

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