The Suburban Traveling Circus

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As you know, the traveling circus makes many stops. In several gatherings and celebrations spanning two weekends, the TC experienced a birthday, an intervention, and a massive sugar crash. And another Red Sox victory, of course.

1st stop: Jack’s 1st birthday party was both nontraditional and traditional -- and quite a ripper, I might add. I hadn’t had a chance to view the photos until a few days ago and realized I had to share them all. Let’s just say the two photogs of record, Caroline and I, have very different visions.

2nd stop: LPD, Jess and I headed to the Scarlet Oak, which is fast becoming the venue of choice for bringing friends back in from the ledge. This time it was Jess who required help, having plummeted into a depression in the wake of Suppah Club’s cancellation last week. Her first night out since giving birth was nothing less than restorative.

3rd stop: Goy spread out the snack plates and set up a massive bouncy slide to entertain the kids while we cackled on the patio, passing around Sweet Baby James with much fanfare. Inside, as the games started up on TV, an intense match of Hungry Hungry Hippos broke out in the dining room. My lightness of mood led to poor judgment as I allowed Paulie to have a Whoopee pie after 8 p.m. In a prelude to a sugar crash, he ran amok with a hobby horse, giving new meaning to the term Hingham High. Shortly thereafter, he collapsed on my lap with a juicebox and philosophical declaration, “We can’t stay here forever.” Indeed, Paulie.

Enjoy the crappy slideshow documenting the ride. No music today. I couldn’t stomach the cheesy offerings of songs “in the style of" Kool & the Gang. I will find a way to pirate my way around this wet blanket, just not today.

Shower Bags 2006

Just two weeks shy of the due date and Auntie's belly hanging mighty low, we gathered together to shower the Beaudins we love with loot. We also consumed an unsettling amount of lasagna. We sent them off with a fierce pile of babyware and a solemn vow to never never tell Baby Beaudin where her/his parents got the nickname "Bags." T-minus 14 days and counting...

(photo: Caroline and Auntie tear one up as the dude from the Men's Wearhouse looks on. "You're gonna like the way you look.")

Lily Pad

Lily, a much celebrated 11-week old King Charles Cavalier, has taken up residence in a new pad -- or new stoop, if you will -- at Chez Cameo in Southie.

We spent an afternoon in Lily's shadow, walking around Castle Island where we were stopped every 10 feet so passersby could admire Lily's delicate puppiness up close. And Lily was all too happy to oblige.


Still flying high from an uncharacteristically gushing display of affection from Princessica a few days earlier, Lily caused Cameo to worry that this perpetual adulation was turning her pup into a bit of an "attention whore." This notion disappeared faster than a discarded cheeseburger a few yards from Baron for Lily has the goods to back up her diva complex.

Fitty-Three South

Friday eve at 53 South : A spirited chinwag over some New England tapas and vino, vino, vino. No muthafuckin' snakes, no muthafuckin' planes.

Code Red is Our Hero

("Your toiletries or your life.")

Faster than a Shi'ite Muslim
More powerful than super-hold hair gel
Able to jump hot National Guardsmen in a single bound
It's Code Red!





**artwork courtesy of PhotoShop Savant, T-Bag

Well-Rehearsed!