So its been a few weeks...and after much peer pressure...I am caving...Here are some highlights from our first vacation together and the celebration of our one year "mark" and 8-9 months of living together...

The first picture is of Steve and his new friend Pierre, the karaoke professional from Canada

The second picture is of the chess conference at the Opryland hotel in in full effect...Three generations of people who will never get laid...

The third picture is of us at the Opryland Hotel

The fourth picture is of Frylock in cowboy boots and a cowboy hat..priceless...No family member of his (or anyone for that matter) should be deprived of seeing this.....

If I had to sum our trip up with a collection of words, they would be: chess tournament, playing with statues in the Opryland Hotel, a bunch of people never getting laid, vodka and diet cokes, karaoke, and ofcourse French Canadian Pierre, the professional karaoke artist himself...

You can find more of these pictures on Steve's facebook..I will be tagging him shortly!

Expect updates ....I am chairing and heading up a team for American Cancer Society's Relay for Life in Palm Beach Gardens..The team consists of a majority of the individuals of Spumoni Gardens..their significant others... and friends...So look out for some great pictures...and I promise them...no more nagging and harrassment from me..."The green monkey is no longer on my back"....

Finally, a gubernatorial candidate New Jersey can be proud of! I just hope Oogie runs as Floyd's lieutenant governor.

Hey, why not -- Uncle Floyd just plays a clown on stage; here in Ohio we have real clowns holding office.

Last night we picked over the last of the turducken leftovers. What a weekend. There was much food and much sunshine. And much ridiculous conversation. The Amish still hate Marlena, maybe more so considering all that turkish coffee grit stuck in Jenx's teeth.

Teef.

And today we run down the curtain on this year's Cookie-and-Mojo Equinox -- those four days of each year that they are both the same age. Yep, Mojo turned 8 on Friday; today Cookie turns 9.

And that's another thing about this particular equinox -- there's a lot of cake involved.

What a crazy week. My NYC trip was cut short by a raging case of the mal'occhio. And then there's all that baseball practice. Took up a lot of y Saturday. Mercifully, last night's practice was rained out. But there will be a Cub Scout meeting tonight. As there was on Sunday. And more baseball later in the week.

I go back to the eye doctor again this afternoon. I'm still using Roger Clemes strength steroidal eyedrops. You should see my fastball now. Last week the doctor sent me for x-rays of my ass. Nice snapshots: sacroiliac pr0n.

And speaking of Carlo Rossi: I hope they never stop making that stuff. Steve?

Watched a few minutes of baseball last night. Since Da Chimpz have got their league already under way (practices already!) I stopped on the game as I was flipping channels to explain to Cookia and Mojo what the fielders were doing.

Wasn't until the next inning that I realized I was watching the Mets. And in their new stadium, no less. Looks crazy. I didn't like it. As a New York state taxpayer, I want my money back. And after watching the Mets play, I want that time back too.

More practices later this week: Mojo on Thursday and Cookie on Saturday.

It's raining today on Berea-Rose.

Nothing bugs me quite as much as seeing snow on the ground in April. In other words, nothing bugs me quite as much as northeast Ohio -- especially when I'm looking out the window at a white-out while Maloofa is on the phone telling me she just got back from the beach.

But the snow from Sunday and yesterday is pretty much all gone by now. In fact, I think we're in the 40s. Heatwave.

On Sunday we went to Mass at a different church. It's the older parish where they say Mass with a more traditional delivery that I like better than the new-age nonsense that dilutes some other services. And the choir? They sang a few hymns in Polish. That's old school. (But at the Our Father we once again saw half the congregation assume a Marcel Marceau mime-in-a-box posture -- palms open to the front, "I'm stuck in an invisible box, how did I get in this invisible box" -- when did that start?)

Steve told me a fascinating story that involved 5,200 professional chess players. The blogosphere awaits his remarkable photo essay.

It's April. Think I can get TARP funds to fund what I owe on state and local taxes?