Friday, June 15, 2012

Fortastic fun

Little brother is up from Charlotte. Yee-haw. We had the two loveliest lazy days off. No plans, no agenda. Just way too much food, lots of laughs, and teasing into infinity.

Tuesday was the better weather of the two days, so after a slow morning we figured we should do something. We started off with breakfast at The Big Bean and then headed for Maine for some fort fun.

First stop: Fort McClary

Excellent shell, buddy.
A rocky shore in Maine? That's something you
don't see every day (yes, you do).

This isn't what I meant when I told him to smile for the camera.

Inside the fort is cool octagonal living.

Michael appreciated how important it was to put caution tape
over the small window no one can fit through.

Soooo much nicer than the WALK OF SHAME STAIRWAY.

This was the only reasonable explanation for this contraption.

Captain was a pimp, yo.

Good thing we chose to drink AFTER maneuvering this staircase.

Second stop: Frisbee at Fort Foster


Michael chose to dance a jig even while I held the camera. Geek.

Yes, too many pics of my brother. It's just rare
to get him not making a face.

"It's nice . . . ya know, except for all the people."
Good god, we're antisocial.

What, you thought there would be Frisbee action shots? Ha! That's funny.

But all that driving around, playing Frisbee, and hanging by the ocean sure can make a person hungry. Michael had heard about my recent adventures in bacon and was not going to miss out. So to Fury's in downtown Dover, we went.

Why is the bacon taking so long? Sadness.

Ahhh, there we go. The famed Bucket O Bacon that I can't stop talking about on
social media. Fried pickles on the lower platter. And, yes, they're spears, which
I've bitched about in earlier posts. But they were done well. Brother and sister approved.

Wednesday was rainy, so we vegged. And then we vegged some more. We watched movies and surfed the Interwebs, side by side. I made Muddy Buddies. Sometime around 3, we showered and headed to the Riverworks for a late lunch and much drinking.

Now, I got a lot of crap for posting on fb a picture of my fridge the night Michael arrived:

The first thing I want to explain is that it's a Santa suit on my bottle of prosecco. Needed to clear the air on that. The second is that I knew we'd a) be eating out a lot and b) go shopping together. And did we. It was like a college-style binge. We're disgusting and should never live together. I've only been eating vegetables since he left.

I am aware of how lucky I am that we get along as well as we do. We totally piss each other off--he shares too much locker talk, until I squeal, "Noooooo! I can't hear this!" I talk about all the cannibalism stories in the news lately ("How could they tell who he was? The man has. no. face!") until Michael turns green and tells me to shut up. But there's a lot of love and respect in there. He's now on the last leg of his tour, hanging with the folks, and I miss him already.


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