Grandpa Dan -- not to suggest he is batting for the fowl team -- arrived on Sunday to the delight of the Crab Family not to mention Grandma Susan.
Of course, as luck would have it, the castle surroundings looked especially third-rate since I awoke to discover cables had dropped into our backyard. NICE! 
Sunday evening: Solidifying their position as Le Must on any San Diego Vacationing Tour, Patty Grace and her husband graced us with their company as we partook of appetizers, vino and witty conversation. I was the sole person to hail from Yankee-land, btw.
Yesterday, Grandpa Dan accompanied the J-crabs to a Boy Scout Rock-Climbing Merit Badge event...5 hours of rock wall antics with some pizza/soda thrown in. Grandma Susan, Lucy and I tackled the pantry. (Who knew what astonishing artifacts lay beneath the crowded facade?)
Patty Kiki will be pleased to know that many items on the Exterior Improvement Campaign have been completed per her request. Grandpa has asked for directions to the Home Depot (TM) so it looks like more may be accomplished.
I have personally shopped for Thanksgiving Day dinner fixings...we will be having a Turkey breast (pray that it thaws in time), homemade mashed potatoes, Trader Joe's cornbread stuffing, Trader Joe's gravy (for Jamie, who solemnly wrote on Ben's Thanksgiving card of his fears that without the Sand Crab, there would be no "good gravy"), TWO packages of dinner rolls (to satiate Tim, the human carbohydrate converter, frozen cheesy broccoli medley, and a Von's special baked-in-store pumpkin pie with extra-special Redi-Whip (TM). Don't forget two cans (one whole-berry and one gel) of cranberry sauce that I expect only the grandparents to touch.
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But now the Story behind the Story: The Sand Crab Married a True Flake and She's Making Sure that the Sand Crab's Parents Know It.
Monday night: A flurry of activity ensued to race Jack to his Boy Scout Troop meeting (after a flurry of dinner-making activity on my part). Jamie rode along to try to act as a Human Pacifier to the Hysterically-Shrieking Lucy (who'd engaged in a Projectile Spit-Up Moment hours prior to Mrs. Crab's Wild Drive). Alas, the church was dark and ours was the only idiot-transport in the lot. Mark one down in Mrs. Crab's Error Column.
Tuesday morning: Another whirlwind (nay, cyclone) of pre-departure nagging/loading/medicating in order to race Jack and Jamie to the Boy Scout "Solid Rock Gym" outing. We squealed up at 9:51 a.m., 9 minutes ahead of what-I-thought was the scheduled start time. In an iconic deja-vu, the parking lot again was empty. In fact, the closed sign was visible. That'll teach me to attend those blasted Troop parent meetings...just confuses me more. I called Grandma Susan, who good-naturedly endured my weak directions on accessing my e-mail in-box. Turns out we were supposed to meet at 10:30 a.m. and start climbing at 11 a.m. Make another scratch in the ol' Error Column for the Queen.
Not helping my mood was my second son's sudden revelation about the time and other details of this event. After we were early. After he saw the Closed sign. After Grandma was already mid-email salvage. He was darn lucky that Grandpa was there or the colorful native tongue of his mother would have been flying.
At this point, I -- like a genius -- espoused to my father-in-law a little-held, nuanced world view. Ready? In my humble opinion, it is less flaky to be WHERE you are supposed to be either TOO EARLY or PRESENT WHEN THERE IS NO EVENT while it is more flaky to be LATE or ABSENT from an ACTUAL EVENT. He looked puzzled or perhaps puzzlement is but a generous interpretation of a countenance that might more aptly be described as "How fast can I escape this sport utility vehicle under the command of a certifiably-crazy woman whom my son chose to wed?"
In a feeble effort to pull the next 39-minutes out of, er, the rocks (groan), I motored over to the MCRD Starbucks, to fetch coffee, latte, steamers, and hot chocolates and proceeded to drive back to the gym. All it takes is one split-second of distraction as one encounters a pothole and there I am with hot chocolate down my lime-green top, sealing my image as not only a flake but a ragamuffin.
Tuesday night: Another festive, family-style dinner planned and executed largely by the Crab Queen. Tim's bus time (home from CCC Kids) rolled around and past. 5:56 p.m. and the STARVING Crab Queen answers the call saying the bus didn't show/come get yer kid. Ergo, another flurry of activity, loading Jack to entertain the Traveling Baby to race into rush hour traffic. Always ready to multi-task, I blue-tooth harangued the lonely bus dispatch fellow, who sounded appropriately pitiful. (Bus driver tried to pick up at Tim's school -- vice his rec program and then called dispatch to contact us, but failed to give him the numbers listed on the manifest and instead he called the school, where Tim wasn't and who told them Tim wasn't there naturally). Argh!
Wednesday: So far, no Queenly gaffes aside from another Unfortunate Episode with a salted caramel hot chocolate and a light-spricot top.
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But, courtesy of said flake, there's a cute baby girl with a curly rooster-comb hair-do:
Cock-a-doodle-dooo
Check out how she braces her foot on the swing's bar. So clever!
Grandma Susan is pleased to see some propensity for curl in her grandbaby
Grandpa plays "goo-goo" with Miss Lucy
Little thumb-sucker
LLGA models her Adorable Baby Legs from Patty Ann
Look at those hamhocks!
Northwestern purple becomes her.
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Oh, and Jamie is now down SIX (6) teeth...the Tooth Fairy managed to deliver a buck for one of them. Jamie put his latest loss in a plastic sandwich bag with a note:
Sure, wait for Dad to deploy and turn all deciduous on me!! (Although he claims to look like a "sand tiger shark").
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Charlie has begun to notice Lucy -- either as a competitor or a wee being of moderate intrigue (now that she gurgles, gargles, and goos.
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Jack, Lucy, and Jack's headgear.
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