Perfection.

So, in case you were wondering, last weekend’s highly classified trip was to here:


That would be Valerie’s family’s summer home in Westport, Massachusetts, on the southern shore. Well, one of their homes in Westport. That’s the small one, The Boathouse.

Six of us went up for Valerie’s surprise bachelorette weekend—the bride, her two sisters, and three friends. I hesitate to use the word bachelorette, which to me implies some sort of debauchery, because our activities consisted primarily of this:

…jumping off the dock into this…


…throwing a ball into the water for this fellow to retrieve…


….and sitting on the porch while reading and drinking iced tea. We also ventured up to Boston for dinner one evening. On the whole, it was a rough weekend. I would be happy to repeat it annually.

So anyway, I survived the Month of Everything, as well as August, which was pretty uneventful, aside from the aforementioned trip and my birthday. I wouldn’t call my birthday eventful, either, though I did have a fabulous dinner with friends, was taken to lunch by some work friends, received many birthday missives and calls from family and friends, and had homemade s’mores cupcakes baked in my honor by my office’s resident cupcake lady. AND THEN, the week after my birthday, some gorgeous roses were delivered to my office. Jules sent them the next week so that they wouldn’t die while I was away! So thoughtful, as always. They were beautiful, and I sent her the following photo:


Okay, I take it back. I suppose it was an eventful birthday after all.