Yargh!

Ho, mateys!

There's another marriage on the horizon in my wicked little family, yargh. My middlish son is marrying his high-school sweetheart, yargh. He's the wildest of the bunch, yargh. Aye, he's committed his fair share of mutiny in the family. He works as a 'refer man', which, if you have any imagination whatsoever, can go two ways -- I'm not explaining this any further, yargh. He's also a singer in a punk band, ho ho! And he's the only person I know who marks September 19th on the calendar every year with a big eye patch and actually celebrates 'Talk Like A Pirate Day' -- yargh.

For their wedding gift, we (that would be me and the hub) paid for their honeymoon in lovely, unimaginably quiet San Simeon, CA. The more personal gift I'm giving is a bottle of my very own spicy amber body oil.

Yargh.