Like David Hasselhoff’s career, or how Obama actually got elected.  Of all the great mysteries of the universe however, the Oatmeal Festival has got to be tops on the list.

If this is your Board of Directors, I’m not sure there’s much I can do in the way of explaining things.

The Pet Parade was first on the agenda.

Interesting enough, but keep moving.

It might not seem like much, but trust me, there’s a lot going on here.  The girl who decides to bring a chicken to the pet parade.  Honestly, the chicken’s owner is a little more disturbing.   But look closely, you’ve got old lady in folding chair who’s completely captivated with something other than chicken girl.  Although, after looking at her shades, it could just be cataracts.  Next, you’ve got the guy to her right.  He gets there early enough to get a good seat…just so he can read the paper.

Our neighbor for the parade, the goose.  Apparently the goose was a huge fan of the parade, as well as root beer.

The next guy really concerned me.  I saw him coming up the street and I grabbed the girls and started sprinting for the car.  Seriously, tell me you don’t see this guy and think of that red sawdust they used to throw on the floor when some kid puked.

This guy was,  I have no idea what this guy was doing.   Strange as he was, his mother stole the show.

I don’t know who she was, what she was driving, or how many bodies she had buried throughout the county, but she scared the kids, so that’s cool.

The Oatmeal Festival is small town pageantry at its finest.  Strange, strange sights abound.  I can’t explain any of it, but I highly recommend all of it.

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This field trip really surprised me.  Al is always taking the girls on some exciting romp throughout Central Texas, and most of the time…I’m pretty jealous.  However, this time left me insanely jealous, and more than a little confused.

I’m a huge horror fan, Al not so much, and by not so much, I mean not at all.  That’s why I can’t figure out why she took the girls to the set of the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre.  Sure, Al said it was a place called Kiddie Acres, but I’ll let you decide.

Not exactly the welcoming you see at somewhere like Sea World, Disney World, or even Ihop for that matter.

I think this picture says it all.  MK was more concerned with the structural integrity of this plane, and with the rust stains on the tail, I can’t say that I blame her.  CB, on the other hand, just caught her first glimpse of Leatherface.

“Sister, is that a severed leg?”

Why is MK smiling ?  Probably because she wasn’t stuck with sister.

The girls made it back unscathed.  Although, they both ran in screaming when our neighbor fired up a chainsaw last weekend.

Al has a trip to Sweet Berry farms planned next month, and then a follow up to an abandoned warehouse where a group of children went missing in the eighties.  Should be interesting.

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We’ve been experiencing one of the worst droughts of the century.  Lake Travis is nothing but a memory at this point, and those poor folks at Hippie Hollow are just wandering in around in the mud.

Prayers were answered a couple of weeks ago, and I was seriously beginning to wonder if it wasn’t one of those Old Testament Rains we were facing.  Al was buried in Facebook commenting how everyone with small children was going stir crazy.  She raised her head long enough to ask, “By the way where are the girls?”

I had already sent them outside.  I don’t know what these people were complaining about.  Rain was always one of the best times to be outside when I was a kid.  Rain has the power to transform a boring backyard into an adventure of epic proportions.  However, with our girls, it’s also a fashion adventure.

MK rocking the Nana inspired rain boots.  Parents, stop worrying.  Send the kids outside during the next downpour.  Trust me, they will love it.  Sure you might have to color coordinate rain boots hats, and umbrellas, but it’s well worth it.

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Look at those smiles, and it’s not just because the kids aren’t around.  It’s actually a night out on the town.

Cactus Cafe with the Braunsteins and Bruce Robison.  Doesn’t get much better than that.  If you’ve never been to the Cactus, please don’t go.  Seriously, I don’t want anyone else knowing about it and ruining the greatest venue in the state.  I don’t want to say we were sitting close, but every time I reached for a drink, I elbowed the steel guitar player in the knee.

One of my favorites of the night.  Aaron snagged the set list when Bruce was on break.  I wish I could say it was a daring adventure, but again, from where we were sitting it was more of a “Hey, grab that.”

For those of you out there who might be concerned about my health, I’m fine, and no I haven’t shrunk 6 inches in the past year either.  Bruce is one of those guys whose not only one of the greatest singer-songwriters out there today, he’s also a Yeti.  Dude’s huge.

I still can’t figure out the guy behind me.  Paparazzi hound, Brittany Spears’ ex..’.don’t know, but apparently he’s not too fond of the camera.

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