Killing Uncle Bob

So. We’ve had a rough week. Four of my front teeth went bye-bye. Much pain. Yadda yadda yadda.

Hubby had a diabetic low on Friday afternoon that impressed even the nurses (for those of you in the know:  +16. No shit. Even the paramedics were impressed).

But we managed to have a kick-ass weekened, and that is what we are focusing on today…

We attended the Virginia Renaissance Festival.  We had a ball. And we didn’t even dress out this time!

The cool thing about this local Ren Faire is that we only had to travel one hour to get there. And then, once we were there, the role-players were focused on the boys. They had so much fun, we had no choice but to have fun as well…

This cracked me up – which pissed off Middle Son. He hit his head on the armor. The beginning of our day.

This gentleman told us a great story about how he sailed with Sir Francis Drake, then fought a sea serpent, and beat the serpent and took it’s teeth (Try to ignore the ‘motorized box-cars’ in the distance.). He then gave my boys each a necklace with a serpent’s tooth, told them to listen to their mother, and sent them on their way. The tooth was good juju, and would protect them througout their day. (I especially liked the ‘listen to your mother’ part).

But here’s a question: Hubby says that ‘kangaroo’ means ‘I don’t know’ in aboriginal Australian. I can’t be bothered to wikipedia it, so has anyone got the skinny on that?

We had many more adventures. Too many to type, in fact. I’ll present the highlights:


Yougest Son considers this the most important moment of his life. He’s keeping the ‘doubloons’ that ‘Jack Sparrow’ gave him in a special box in his room. He hopes to retire on their value. I haven’t got the heart to tell him the truth.

Middle Son is into archery. He wants to be Robin Hood – not for any moral or philisophical reason, but because Hood is the best archer anyone ever heard of (I tried to tell him about William Tell, but it was a no go).


 Eldest Son spent more than an hour at the spinning wheel. I was reminded of Sir Isaac Newton, as ES kept taking the mess apart and putting it back together again. He wasn’t so interested in making yarn as how the machine worked.


All three were knighted by the Queen (Elizabeth Rex, it was). Here’s the best shot I was able to get:


In the name of God, Saint Michael, and Saint George, my three sons were knighted by Her Royal Highness Queen Elizabeth. Then they had to go into service:


My favprite part of the day?

Hubby and his turkey leg. Haven’t had a smile like that from the man in almost a year. Adorable.




8 responses to “Killing Uncle Bob

  1. Guy who Knows

    It does mean “I don’t know.”

  2. We’ll just see about that…

  3. Love the photos!

    Ren Faires are most wonderful things…

  4. This sounds like a much-needed break from an otherwise crappy week. Good for you.

    And the picture of Middle Son in the… well, Middle… holding his head, with the mental picture of his mom laughing, is priceless!!

  5. Man. I want to live in Richmond. All this fun and only an hour away? My kids would be in heaven. And what’s an hour away from me? Dublin. I rest my case.

  6. I love Dublin, and I would love to live in Ireland, but Richmond is pretty good, too. Two hours from DC, two hours from the Atlantic, two hours from the Blue Ridge mountains (where we are going on vacation later this month). It’s also only one hour from Williamsburg, where Busch Gardens is, and we spend a gawd-awful amount of time there over the summer. You should come visit!

  7. What happened to your teeth?!

  8. They went away. They’ve been replaced by RoboTeeth. Fully functioning, and will live longer than me.

    My contribution to the cloning/robotic effort.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s