I spent this past weekend in Atlanta with my sister-in-law Janie. Janie designs and sells fab jewelry travel cases, and when she asked me if I could help her for a couple of days at market, I was more than happy to oblige because 1) I love her and 2) I knew we’d eat a lot of cheese.

Seriously. You have never seen two girls who love cheese more than the two of us. Sometimes we even clap our hands when we talk about it. If we’re looking at a magazine and run across a recipe that contains cheese, we will read the recipe aloud and then talk about how good all that cheese would be. This probably explains why we spent a full fifteen minutes Saturday afternoon speculating on the finer points of a recipe for Potato Lasagna, a dish so decadent that in addition to pasta AND potatoes, it contains at least four different varieties of cheese, hallelujah.

(Have I mentioned to y’all that my husband has decided he doesn’t really like cheese anymore?)

(MY HUSBAND HAS DECIDED THAT HE REALLY DOESN’T LIKE CHEESE ANYMORE.)

(We are considering counseling to help us through this unexpected cheese-related difficulty in our marriage. Please keep us in your prayers.)

Friday night Janie treated me to dinner at a place called One Midtown Kitchen, which was great fun for me because I don’t normally eat at places that require a reservation. I normally eat at places where you sit down briefly and then FIX YOUR OWN PLATE, though if we’re really feeling fancy we’ll eat at a restaurant that provides complimentary chips and salsa before we order enormous plates of tortillas, beans and cheese.

Surprisingly, I don’t really have a problem with that last option.

Anyway, we had a delightful meal at the One Midtown Kitchen, and afterwards we went back to the hotel and put on our pajamas and watched HGTV and ate chocolate. In my opinion the only thing that would have made the night any better is some combination of A) a Dave Barnes show B) SEC basketball and C) a “Project Runway” marathon. Though that would’ve probably sent us into Fun Overload.

And when having fun, it’s important not to overdo it and also to stretch beforehand.

Saturday at market brought lots of great conversation and lots of anticipation about the cheese dip we were planning to eat for supper. By 6:15 the cheese dip was right where we wanted it – DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF US – and by 7:30 we were back in our room, back in our pajamas, and ready to get back to the TV. Janie missed “The Bachelor” when it was on in the earlier in the week, so I watched it again with her. It was actually quite productive because I discovered some subtle “Bachelor” nuances that I missed in my first viewing, and I don’t know when I’ve ever felt more prepared for a season’s second episode. It’s my greatest “Bachelor”-related accomplishment to date. You can imagine my joy.

I drove home yesterday afternoon and got all caught up with my little family and then, once the boy was asleep, watched what is no doubt one of my favorite SNL episodes in recent memory. Mainly because of this.

WHAT A DELIGHT.

Now do have a lovely day.

We spent New Year’s Eve with some friends we don’t get to see as much as we’d like, and I took my camera along for the festivities because I figured there would be some hilarious moments to document and treasure forever and for always.

And there were. There were tons of hilarious moments to document. There were marathon spades games that lasted until three in the morning. There were marathon Wii tournaments that lasted until a couple of five year-olds hit rock bottom and entered melt-down mode. There was lots of singing. There was a five pound Hershey’s bar.

There was homemade beef & broccoli and fried rice and salad and cheesecake, and then, around 1:30 in the morning, there was more beef & broccoli and fried rice and cheesecake. There were biscuits and chocolate gravy (YES. I SAID “CHOCOLATE GRAVY.” HALLELUJAH.) and bacon (BACON!) and this whipped honey butter stuff that flat-out rocked my world.

And then there were more cards and more laughs and more Wii games and more fun and by late New Year’s afternoon you have never seen a group of people who were more tired and more full.

And do you know how many pictures I snapped?

One.

UNO.

So here is my lone photographic memory of our 24-hour fun-a-thon.

For what it’s worth, it was the best guacamole I’ve ever eaten.

Happy 2009, everybody. May your new year be filled with, among other things, plenty of delicious avocados.

You’re welcome and amen.

This past weekend my nephews and my little man made (and by “made,” I mean “assembled from a pre-fabricated kit”) a gingerbread house.

Or, I should say: my nephews and I made a gingerbread house. The five year-old just screamed and laughed a lot.

It was clear about five minutes into the deal that we had us a Hoopty Gingerbread House on our hands, because the left wall caved in. Then the roof started to separate and fall off to the side, and then the icing, MY WORD, THE ICING, WHY WON’T IT MIND?

But just look at these sweet faces:

They made me want to finish the silly thing.

Sort of.

Because here’s something you may not have known about me: any exceedingly detailed task, like filling in a gingerbread tree by USING ICING TO ADHERE LITTLE BITTY PIECES OF CANDY TO THE SURFACE OF SAID TREE, FOR INSTANCE, makes me want to throw all the candy on the floor and smash it with a sledgehammer and then blow up all the tiny candy residue with a stick or nine of dynamite.

So I picked my battles. Candy on the roof in an abstract pattern. No piping the icing in a design because I’d prefer to avoid a pre-Christmas nervous breakdown.

Really, a gingerbread house would be so much more fun if you could paint it. With Magic Markers. And if doodles counted as decorations.

Make it merry, y’all.

It’s hard work being a superhero, y’all.

Especially when you’re five.

Last week Mama and Daddy went on a chartered bus trip up the east coast. I’m not sure of the exact route, but I know it involved North Carolina, Virginia, and several days in Washington, DC. I didn’t talk to them until they left DC and were on the way home, but Mama was quick to tell me that they were having the best time! such a good time! just a wonderful time!

In fact, they had so much fun that they’ve already made reservations for another trip this fall. This is pretty remarkable since Mama’s idea of a vacation is to stay at home, dust, and arrange pillows, but it looks like some of Daddy’s wanderlust might be rubbing off on her.

By the way: official recipients of the wanderlust gene? Sister, Janie and me. Well, technically Janie didn’t inherit it from our side of the family since she married my brother and all, but nonetheless, the three of us would take a trip every four days if our schedules allowed it. Other than that we’re perfectly content to sit at home indefinitely and twitch until we get to go somewhere again.

Once he and Mama were home, Daddy sent all the “children” an email. He wrote, “We had a great time, saw lots and lots of sights and as you will note in the attached photos were honored while in Washington.”

As I read the email I thought, HONORED? IN WASHINGTON? Why, that is very fancy indeed.

After a few minutes I determined that since they were a part of such a large group, one of their elected officials might have rolled out the red carpet for them. And since I am a bit of a nerd in regard to Our Nation’s Capitol, I couldn’t wait to look at what I imagined would be pictures of my parents and their fellow travelers receiving some sort of Official Government Proclamation.

So you can imagine my surprise when I clicked on the attachments and saw this:

And this:

Oh, they are VERY important.

I mean, John McCain AND the front page of the paper, y’all.

Even if it’s a fake John McCain and a fake paper.

It still totally counts.

And everyone’s seventh decade should be just that fun.