So here's a bit of a wrap-up since we've been home for three days now and I haven't found the time to even post the rest of the photos from Chris' commencement.

In a desperate cry for attention, I mangled my fingers on a burr on Judey's leash snap.  Chris informed me that he was going to celebrate with his classmates and that if I needed to go to the hospital that I should call either my or his parents.  In the end, I wrapped them tightly and then snuggled in bed with the boys and watched MI-5.  Best night of the whole trip.

Commencement.  Chris had to turn in his robe in order to get his diploma, so he wore the hood with his suit.  Apparently, I was sleeping through the whole thing because there isn't a photo of me with my eyes open.

This is a Plymouth Gran Fury and it is almost identical to my first car, which was a 1982.  Mine had red velour interior with black pinstripes and the floor was rusted away, so it was pretty much the carpet that kept me in.

Creighton's campus before the class graduation party.

The original site of the College of Pharmacy at Creighton.

After the class graduation party, we went out to a local brew-pub and then later to America's Best Gay Dance Club.  I complained that my martinis which were all vodka came in a smaller glass than the fruity cocktails, so I started ordering them without olives to maximize the amount of vodka I could pour down my gullet.  Then I declared that I am the best drinker ever and that I was never going to go home or sober up again.  Chris made me go home though and while I was sitting on the bed taking my plague medicine, Bean jumped up and gave me a flying headbutt which knocked me out cold.  Chris said I snuggled up to him and went to sleep, so he should've known that I had a concussion, but except for a painful lump on my forehead there doesn't seem to be any long term effects.  The next morning we packed up and headed for the motherland.

We drove through T. Boone Pickens' wind farms.  There were hundreds of windmills, so I put a dog bowl on my head, started calling Chris Sancho and then I sang the entire catalog from Man of LaMancha.

We didn't take any photos in Michigan.  The dogs ran wild and then laid in the shade and made a family of chipmunks very nervous.  We worked the dogs for the first time since Asheville and since our families don't know what kind of obedience we are aiming for, they were very impressed.  We saw our amazing niece Kori who chirped and fluttered around until we were all exhausted.  We ate at Tony's, home of the Giant Steak Sandwich.  We made my dad, stepmom, aunt and uncle eat all of the food left in Rattling Rosie so that we could fill the fridge up with Michigan made products.

By the time we left MI to head back to Albany, I was so beat that I slept most of the way home.  For some of it, I tried to seem supportive and slept in the front seat, but for most of it I illegally slept on the bed.  Sleeping on the bed in the back of Rosie was like trying to sleep on a trampoline while three big people jump on it, but this was not a deterrent.  Bean snuggled up with me and we were in dreamland.  Fortunately, I happened to be in my seat and buckled up when we got pulled over in Ohio.  It was like 9am and Chris was driving erratically which was due to high winds in a big car, but then the officer determined that we were not drunk, but just crazy when he saw our wolf pack and let us go with a warning.

When we pulled into the driveway, the grass in the front yard was short.  We were impressed that it didn't' look too bad and just blamed it on the fact that we don't have much grass, only weeds and they kind of grow to a predetermined height and then stop, but then we went into the backyard (insert Psycho theme music here).

 

It turns out that our next door neighbor mowed the front for us which was really nice and I am very appreciative.  Then we started unpacking...